White Mage
by Lights and Sparkles
Summary: Taylor with White Mage powers. With the ability to heal wounds and cure diseases, can she also find the power to remedy the ills in her life? Or the problems plaguing Brockton Bay?
1. Esuna 1

**Summary:** Taylor with White Mage powers. With the ability to heal wounds and cure diseases, can she also find the power to remedy the ills in her life? Or the problems plaguing Brockton Bay?

May contain fluff.

Taylor will only have the ability to heal or buff. No offensive spells allowed. She has the potential to gain White Mage spells from any of the games, though I am biased towards FFXI.

Writing for practice and for fun. Hope you enjoy. :)

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

 **Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.**

You are currently logged in, Healing_Lights

You are viewing:

 **Topic: Please Heal My Daughter, Panacea**

 **In: Boards ► America ► Brockton Bay ►Requests**

► **HardHat** (Original Poster)

Posted on February 9th, 2011:

I hope you see this, Panacea!

My daughter is really sick. The doctor's say its cancer - Leukemia.

The treatment is expensive and we don't have insurance. All we could do was scrape together $5,000 for medical costs.

It's yours if you heal her. You can find us Here.

Please, you have to help us! She's just a kid.

(Showing page 1 of 2)

► **Symbiotic**

(Replied on February 9th, 2011)

You do know it's really stupid to post your address online, right?

Especially when you're that close to Merchant territory.

► **OrneryOne**

(Replied on February 9th, 2011)

Desperation makes people do risky things.

My dad died from cancer a few years ago. It's a shit position to be in when your family is suffering like that.

I hope it works out in the end, OP.

► **HopefulMarshmellow**

(Replied on February 9th, 2011)

But Panacea's got to help. She's a hero, after all.

► **Symbiotic**

(Replied on February 9th, 2011)

To HopefulMarshmellow:

Hero or not, she has to get thousands of these requests a day. Nobody could get to them all.

Sorry OP, but I don't think it's going to happen.

Edit: Maybe try to get a fundraiser for the treatment?

► **Providence**

(Replied on February 9th, 2011)

To Symbiotic:

You're kind of an ass in real life, aren't you?

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

I felt nervous.

This was my debut. My first act as a hero. The first time I could do something that mattered, really change somebody's life for the better.

I had to do this.

Even if the butterflies in my stomach were threatening to burst their way out of me. Violently. Taking a calming breath, I gave the door a few firm knocks and waited. There was a distinct rustling coming from within, the noise sounding dull and listless. Just like the person who opened the door.

He was middle aged, with a bit more belly than was attractive and thinning hair. But it was the eyes that really hit me. Eyes circled by tired blackness and had lost the spark of life or hope. Eyes that knew the world was crumbling around them.

The same kind of eyes Dad had after Mom died. No! Don't think like that, Taylor, you're here to help!

"Are you HardHat from the PHO boards?" I asked.

The man retreated a bit into his home, seemingly ready to slam the door at a moments notice. Those bleak eyes scanned me up and down. Suspicion became the first real emotion to flutter into his features.

Not that I could blame him, given what I must have looked like. I was stuffed into an extremely oversized white hoodie. The sleeves nearly swept over my hands, with only the tips of my fingers pointing out. The hood itself large enough to cast a dark shadow over my face. A blood red scarf wrapped over my lower face and then fell to either side of me. A flowing white skirt with red accents completed the look. I'd been hoping to convey the same image as Panacea, but all I'd really accomplished was to look like I was drowning in bright fabric. Not exactly inspiring, but there weren't exactly a lot of costume options within my price range.

The door started to inch towards being closed as the silence drew on.

"Wait!" I pleaded, before pulling out a printed copy of the PHO thread. "You made this request, right? You said your daughter was sick."

Mr. HardHat glanced at the page I held aloft, recognizing his prior plea. He started to turn angry. Not quite the reaction I was hoping for.

Little did I know that other, less than savory, individuals had also seen his post and had tried to take advantage of the situation... "If you're here to try and sell me some insurance scam or something you can get the fu-"

"I can help!" I yelled, a bit louder than I intended. There may have been a bit of desperation in my voice.

"...Really? You're not playing a prank, are you? You can help Susan?"

"I can help," I repeated, trying to pour strength I didn't posses into my words. "I'm a healer. I'm here to save your dau-" No, too impersonal. "I'm here to save Susan."

Silence stretched for what felt like hours. I never knew a few seconds could feel so long, longer than those horrible lunches trying to avoid Emma.

Eventually I was allowed inside, even if suspicion followed me along the way. There wasn't much furniture in the small house. It felt like what you'd expect in this part of town, a bit worn and shabby. Mr. HardHat gave an obligatory offer of something to drink from their poorly stocked kitchen. I responded with an awkward refusal before we he guided me passed the dirty living room. Nothing seemed particularly well cared for. My heart went out to Mr. HardHat .

Dad hadn't fared any better, after all.

Eventually we reached Susan, and my breath caught in my throat.

The poor thing looked terrible. Her skin was ghostly pale, checkered with an occasional red sore or bruise. She looked weak. Tired. Almost like she was barely there and ready to give up. A spirit that still barely clung to its earlier body. One might mistake her for dead, except for the small movement of her shallow breaths.

God, I really hope this works.

"Well, can you do something for her?" Mr. HardHat startled me out of my stupor.

"Oh, uh, yes. I should be able to..." Way to show confidence.

Deep breaths…

Concentrating, I **_sensed_** Susan's condition. I could feel the status of her health, the life fading from her as the **_affliction_** drained her. It was as bad as it looked. She wouldn't last terribly long. Medicine would even have trouble getting her healthy again.

But I could save her! I felt that as strongly as I felt her illness in that moment.

Pooling my energy to the surface, I began to chant.

 _ **"Purify that which subdues the mind and weakens the body."**_

Motes of bright white lights sprang from me, filling the room with a soft glow. They danced around like magic fireflies, swirling around us in a slow vortex.

 _ **"Esuna!"**_

The lights swam to Susan, until she radiated with healing lights. Her body convulsed in response, as it rejected the unwelcomed cells. Her skin became darker, livelier. The bruises and sores faded and her breathing normalized.

It worked!

I _**sensed**_ her again, noting that the _**affliction**_ was gone. Her health wasn't being drained anymore, though it was still low and she still looked weak.

Tapping into the same energy, I began another chant: _**"Bask in the light of rejuvenation. Cure!"**_

More lights sprang forth. More lights flickered into Susan. Strength began to return to her and her eyes slowly flickered open.

"Magic," was the first words she said, childish wonder in her voice. It wasn't hard to see why, with such wondrous lights floating around her. Still, I struggled not to blush as I continued channelling energy.

I'd barely finished my spell before Mr. HardHat rushed to his daughter and hugged her fiercely. "Susan, you're ok! I was so worried."

Susan didn't seem to know what to do, and so just hugged him back. It was really touching, even if I did feel out of place standing off to the side and watching.

They spent a long time just hugging. It made me feel like a jerk when I coughed to get their attention.

"Sorry," I said softly. "But, I was hoping you could pay the money you listed on your post."

Even though the money was promised for a healing, and even though Mr. HardHat happily handed me five grand in cash, I still felt guilty about accepting it.

A part of me felt that a hero should do this for free. That saving a person's life for money was wrong. As if being paid cheapened the act itself. That it made me a bad person.

But I needed this money. So did Dad.

As I left the house, I once again saw their meager living space. Their limited stock of food. The wear and tear their house had suffered through.

I guess I don't need all of it, I thought. Before I exited the door, I left 4 of the 5 grand I'd been handed behind.

They could use it more than me.

I was a Hero, after all.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

 **Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.**

You are currently logged in, HardHat

You are viewing:

 **Topic: Please Heal My Daughter, Panacea**

 **In: Boards ► America ► Brockton Bay ►Requests**

► **HardHat**

(Original Poster)

Posted on February 9th, 2011:

Please Panacea!

My daughter is really sick. The doctor's say its cancer - Leukemia.

The treatment is too expensive. We don't have insurance and could only scrape together 5 grand for medical costs.

It's yours if you heal her. You can find us Here.

Please, you have to help us! She's just a kid.

(Showing page 3 of 3)

► **HardHat** (Original Poster)

(Replied on February 11th, 2011)

Susan is doing well.

Thank you, White Mage.

► **Symbiotic**

(Replied on February 11th, 2011)

Wait, White Mage?

What does that mean?


	2. Esuna 2

Why did nobody ever mention how awkward it was to walk around in a costume? It just felt weird to pass by other people in such a strange getup. I wondered if Ms. Militia ever thought the same about her patriotic display, or whether Armsmaster worried about blinding passerbys with his shiny armor.

Or maybe it was just me, drowning in white fabric and smothered by a brilliant red scarf. I could feel the eyes looking at me as I sat on the bus, trying to pretend that this was natural. The looks followed as I entered the hospital and marched to the front kiosk.

Through a feat of willpower I managed to ignore the arched eyebrow of the male attendant. And their pensive, pursed lips.

"Hi," I started. "I'm here to help people." Step one to being a hero!

The eyebrows arched higher. "Sick people. I'm...er...I'm a healer."

The lips pursed even more. There was uncertainty there. This wasn't going quite as I'd expected. Apparently it was unrealistic to think I could just traipse into a hospital, say some words, make some sparkles and heal everyone.

Plan B then. I riffled through the pockets of my enormous hoodie and took out a crumpled sheet of paper. It was another printed posting from PHO.

"Th-The person in room 214 asked specifically for my help," I stammered out as I handed them the papers. "They call me White Mage."

"White Mage?" the attendant repeated as he perused the posting. He was looking more and more apprehensive as his eyes darted across the page.

"Eheh," I laughed nervously, "It's sort of a silly name, I know." He kept on reading, ignoring me. Why was this so awkward?

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I've never heard of you. Besides, you need permission from the patient or a family member before you can see-"

"Mark, when will you learn to do your job right?" came the irritated voice of a nearby nurse, who was short, haggard and no-nonsense. The bright pink nurses cap atop her head didn't fit at all. She bustled her way into our space and ripped the PHO printout right out of the attendant - Mark's - hand. Glancing at me, she pointed down the hall. "Take the elevator to the second story. You'll find 214 to your left."

"You can't just let her go," Mark began indignantly. "She doesn't have permission to visit."

"Did you check your notes?" The nurse pointed at a post-it attached to the kiosk computer. Mark stared at it as if it had popped forth from the aether. In fairness, it was buried amongst an ever growing pile of multicolored notes. The kaleidoscopic barrage of colors was a bit overwhelming.

"Oh…"

"See," continued the nurse. "You need to pay more attention. How you've kept that cushy front desk job I'll never know."

And here I stood. Forgotten amongst their bickering. Head moving back and forth between them as they argued. What was I supposed to do? Do I cough and get their attention?

Ms. Nurse seemed to notice I was still there. "Oh, you can go on ahead sweetie."

I darted away and into the elevator and went to the second floor. I'd found the room pretty easily. Taking a steadying breath, I entered. The room was what you'd expect from a hospital - sterile to the point of oppressive and smelling of medicine. A bed lay against the wall with a woman lying asleep on it. Straps clung to her arms and legs.

A nurse was changing her IV. He wore dark blue scrubs. I walked over to the bed and saw that his nametag identified him as "Darik."

Dark jammed a new needle into her arm, hooked it to the IV and taped it in place. That's when he noticed me out of the corner of his eyes. "White Mage?" Darik asked gently after glancing at my costume.

"Yeah," I answered, trying to be friendly. "Is this- uhm." I'd forgotten the name of the person who'd requested my help on PHO. And left my printout with the reception desk.

What else did I know to identify the patient with? They said they'd suffered from a stroke on the forums. Would it be rude to just call them the 'stroke patient'? It sure felt rude, but there didn't seem to be much choice.

"Ahem, is this the stroke patient?"

A nod was my reply. "Her name's Kathy. It's nice to see a new healer in town. Do you think you can help her?"

I honestly didn't know. I hadn't had my powers for very long and it's not like there's a ton of stroke victims that just plop before me to test on. I'd taken requests to help, sure, but there was more to it than that. I wanted to see what I could do and find the limits to my abilities.

"I'll try," I finally said.

Besides, a hero would definitely try!

 _ **Sensing**_ the patient's condition confirmed that it was a stroke. Parts of Kathy's brain were damaged, and her body didn't work quite the way it should. She was left _**disabled**_ and _**immobilized**_. It seemed that she couldn't even speak properly, with haphazard control over her facial muscles and vocal chords. She'd been bedridden for a long time, if the weakness of her body and the atrophy of her muscles were any indication. This condition wasn't new.

And then more detail hit me with a jolt. Kathy had erratic cuts down her wrists, cuts that were still healing. Her IV was full of sedatives to keep her _**asleep**_ and the straps on her limbs were actually restraints.

She'd tried to kill herself.

And there was a nurse here, even when she was asleep.

"Are you keeping watch over her? To make sure she doesn't-" my voice petered out. I couldn't finish.

Darik seemed to understand the meaning of my question. "Yeah," he sighed. "Life's hard when you don't have any control over it."

My throat suddenly felt thick and my eyes stung with repressed tears. Unformed tears for the person before me who'd suffered. Maybe even a few for myself, though I wasn't sure I wanted to acknowledge them.

Tapping into my available energy, I drew it forth and infused it into my words. " _ **Purify that which subdues the mind and weakens the body. Esuna!**_ "

The same dancing lights sprang forth, floating around in a gentle dance before flickering into Kathy's prone body. The parts of her mind that had faded suddenly sparked, lightning back into action in a cacophony of chemicals and electrochemical signals. Her body fought off the sedatives and she stirred into activity.

A jerk racked her body as it reset itself, before her eyes creaked open and she saw me.

"Who's that?" she asked blearily as the last of the sedative faded.

Then her eyes burst open. "I can talk?" she yelped. She moved her fingers and arms. Twisted her legs. "I can move!?" I'd never seen somebody look so happy, so alive before, even despite the fragility of her body. She tried to get up but was too weak to do so. All she accomplished was an awkward looking crunch.

Darik pushed her back down, gently. "Your still weak, so take it easy." A smile set itself on his lips. "But it seems you've been healed."

She looked back to me, tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you. So much."

I flushed with pride. She seemed so happy. I'd caused that, I'd made a difference for somebody!

One of her hands reached out to grasp my arm, just trying to connect with the person who healed her. Its grip was weak, but the warmth burned its way through my costume. It felt good, and I suddenly realized how long it'd been since I'd had this kind of contact. A touch full of gratitude.

"Your welcome," was all I could say. I meant it with all my heart, too.

The cuts on her arms caught my attention again. I grabbed her hand and held it close to me.

Chanting once more, I _**cured**_ her of the cuts and scars. "You need to stop doing this to yourself. Life will get better." For her, at least.

Kathy was crying in earnest now. She didn't seem sad, just overwhelmed. Though, I'm not sure I'd be able to tell the difference. Was it too much? Did I just dig up horrible memories?

I tried to figure out how to fix this when Darik ushered me out of the room with him. "Sorry, but I think we should give her a moment. She needs to get it out of her system."

"I'm sorry!"

Darik looked at me strangely. "For what?"

"Nevermind," I blurted out. Ok, so maybe she was just overwhelmed. Good...I think. She seemed to be so happy, but then I tried to help her some more and she started crying. A lot. Ugh, this was confusing.

He seemed to sense my confusion. "Don't worry. People tend to react like that when miracles happen." Wait, he was smirking. Was he poking fun at me!?

His smirk faded. "You did good in there. Really." I did, didn't I? Kathy would be able to return to her life because of me. The jubilation on her face when she regained her speech and motion was well worth all of the effort.

Darik's praise felt nice. Helping Kathy felt great. Being a hero was wonderful!

"Would you like to help out some other patients?" he asked.

A smile tugged at my face. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He sent somebody to check up on Kathy before escorting me to another room. "Great! I've got some people who would love to see you. It's not everyday that we get a healer who can heal someone's brain. Panacea can't even do that."

Huh, I can heal things that even Panacea can't. That's interesting.

...

"Wait, what!?"


	3. Esuna 3

"Hey White Mage," a passing attendant greeted me warmly as I walked through the hospital. I smiled and waved, before remembering that my face was obscured by my scarf. I desperately hoped that it hid my embarrassment as well.

There was a bit of a spring to my step as I did a small round through the west wing. Becoming a healer was the best decision I'd made in...I didn't even know how long. It was almost like mending the minds and bodies of others helped to cure me of my own troubles, at least for awhile. Here they wanted me, and I had purpose. When I entered a room, the patient's eyes would light up with joy and hope, and I would commit my all to keeping that light alive. Their gratitude and heartfelt thanks energized me to keep moving forward.

Even with school being a torturous mess, and even though Dad was still a bit of a wreck at home, here I could create happiness.

And I'd been learning, too!

Over the last week of healing I'd gotten to test my powers on a vast array of maladies and ailments. During which I concluded that my powers were, in fact, kind of bullshit. Practically any injury or illness could be healed when a person was imbued with enough of my healing lights. The only real question seemed to be whether I had enough energy to keep healing them. Prolonged healing was exhausting. _Very_ exhausting. As in, I'd almost passed out after a few of the longer sessions. Nothing that a full night's sleep wouldn't help, and then I'd be off again fixing people up.

Well, there was one thing that I couldn't fix.

Death. Anything that my power registered as 'dead' couldn't be healed. I couldn't even _try_ to cast anything on them.

I refocused on the world around me as I finally reached my destination: The children's ward.

I'd actually started with the children's ward once school was out. They'd all been healed and were waiting to be discharged after some observation. So then, why did I come back to this part of the hospital? Well, sometimes I liked to end my day on a positive, and adorable, note.

"It's White Mage!" came a gleeful squeal from a little girl sitting in her bed. A smattering of tiny cheers erupted as the children noticed my entrance.

"Hi everyone," I said to today's group. "I hope you're doing well. No discomfort or pain anywhere?" Priorities are important, even if this second visit was for fun.

They quickly brushed off my concerns and jumped right into what they wanted. And what I wanted to give. "We want to see a spell!"

The kids had gotten used to calling my abilities 'spells'. The term spread throughout the hospital like wildfire. After all, it fit the 'mage' persona quite well. It seems that I'll never get to choose any part of my cape identity beyond my costume. I could only hope that they didn't start to lump me in the same group as Myrdin...

"Sure," I chirped before closing my eyes and focusing on my pool of energy. I gathered some of the burning energy from within and concentrated, recalling the same feeling that courses through me when I cast _**cure**_. Grabbing onto that sensation and refusing to let go, I opened my eyes.

Sure enough, the room was awash in twinkling lights floating through the air, reminding me of christmas lights. Some flickered like fireflies, a few disappeared as they passed through the walls and others were chased by the kids.

I wasn't actually casting a spell, but I still felt a drain on my body as more lights popped into existence. I kept it up until I was nearly depleted, trying to not show my exhaustion.

There was maybe enough for one or two more spells. And I'd very probably faint if I actually used them.

But the kids were happy, and that made it all worth it.

I nearly startled as I felt something glomp onto me from behind. One of them had hugged me. "Thank you," he whispered.

I tried patting his head from behind.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

"I'm spent," I told Darik the nurse as started heading towards the elevator, on my way out. "I'll see you next time."

"Sure," he replied. "Enjoy your night. Don't get lost on the way home." We exchanged small waves. Then he smirked at me. "And if you do get lost, just remember that you're basically a human flashlight."

Darik , apparently, liked to tease people a lot. "I saw your display at the children's ward," he continued, "that was nice of you." He was also a nice person sometimes.

I reached the elevator just as it opened and just in time to slam into somebody. I fell to the floor in a heap of fabric, which thankfully seemed to help break my fall.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered out as I looked towards the person I'd hit. It had been a girl around my own age. Mousy with frizzy brown hair and a healthy smattering of freckles. Oh, and a very familiar costume, quite similar to my own.

It was Panacea.

…

….

"Panacea!?" I squeaked.

Said Parahuman had taken the time I'd been in a stupor to pick herself up off the floor and brush the dirt from her costume. She looked at me for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to do, before awkwardly offering me a hand.

Blinking at the hand before me, I finally accepted it and was hoisted back to my feet.

"You must be White Mage," came the weary voice of Panacea. A voice that broke through my rather starstruck brain like a scalpel. (I think I've been spending too much time in hospitals…)

I took another look at her. She looked ragged. Her costume was askew and her hair was more than frizzy, it was disheveled. Her eyes didn't have the spark I expected from a renown hero and her voice lacked energy. Even her motions seemed a bit slow.

"Are you alright, Panacea?"

The question seemed to startle her a bit. "Yeah," she said, before hesitating. "I'm just here to start a second shift."

"Uhm," I began. A _second_ shift? In this state? "Maybe you should take a break first? Or a nap?"

Her eyes steeled over, just a tad. "I'm fine," she said a bit brusquely.

She didn't seem fine.

"Well," I tried again, "I could heal you. I think I have just enough left in me to give you a boost."

After a brief moment of consideration and a smidgen of hesitation, I received a timid smile. "Sure, that might be nice."

Is it strange that it felt sort of exciting to heal somebody as important as Panacea? Because it felt exciting.

Tapping into the remaining dregs of strength, I _**sensed**_ her condition. And my breath caught in my throat.

"You're _**charmed**_!" I gasped. What did that even mean? Was she being controlled? Was brainwashing afoot?

Amy did not take my outburst well. She backed away from me, eyes widening in horror. Or maybe realization. I just didn't know anymore, people were never my strong suit.

She shrank in on herself. "What are you talking about?" she asked defensively, even as her behavior screamed of guilt and fear.

"Something's _**charmed**_ you," I said again in whispered urgency. "I don't think you're being controlled by it, not with how you're acting. But it _is_ influencing you."

Sweat was beading on Panacea's head. She seemed so scared, so uncertain. It was almost like she would break at any moment.

She needed help. "Don't worry! I can remove the charm, _**erase**_ it. Make it like it was never there."

Panacea's eyes turned wild. "NO!" she screamed desperately, as if I'd just threatened to destroy everything she held dear. Pushing me aside with shaking hands, she ran away with all her might.

I couldn't help the heavy sigh that left me. _'Way to go Taylor'_

But what did this mean about the obviously troubled healer?


	4. Esuna 4

Another long healing session finished, leaving me with just a tiny bit of energy to spare. I wandered on my way home through the dark streets of Brockton Bay. Not the smartest thing to do, in retrospect, but I'd never been troubled on this route. It was pretty out of the way, cutting through abandoned byways and tricky terrain. Besides, people tended to not mess with people in costumes. More often than not they were either crazy or had powers.

It didn't help that my mind was preoccupied.

It'd been a couple days since my... _encounter_ with Panacea. And she'd been avoiding me. I knew that because she'd been scheduled for another visit to my usual hospital. A visit she skipped. No word was provided and no excuses were given. She just didn't show up. Something that had the staff talking, a lot. Panacea almost never reneged on her healing duties and when it happened it was a big deal.

I couldn't decide if being avoided was good or bad. On one hand, Panacea being influenced by some unknown agent was unacceptable. What if this really was the work of a villain, trying to turn her towards villainy? Some diabolic mastermind moving to take the more useful piece from the chessboard. The heroes couldn't afford to lose her. I didn't even want to think about what would happen if the villains claimed her. Something had to be done.

On the other hand, I didn't know how to approach the situation. She was scared, even terrified, when I offered to remove the _**charm**_.

Was this an effect of the influence? Entirely possible, but I'd figure a mind-controlling villain would have his potential pawns hide it better. Or was this just the initial stages of some slow, methodical conversion therapy?

And maybe, just maybe, she knew what was happening. Maybe she _wanted_ the influence, willingly subjecting herself to it. If that was true did I have the right to try and take that away?

Ugh! Why was this so complicated? How was I supposed to know what to do? Whoever said life was supposed to be complicated was being stupid! Those pesky choices in life should be adorned with obvious 'right' and 'wrong' signs. Or at least a big red flag on the especially bad decisions.

'Hey,' I thought out to the universe, 'A little help would be nice!'

I got an answer in the form of a loud bang and a shrill shriek.

That bang? Yup, definitely a gun. Anyone in Brockton Bay could identify a gunshot. I'd certainly heard enough over my tenure in gangland.

Oh, and that shriek? Probably somebody needing help.

'Thanks, the universe' I mentally snapped as I started running towards the sound of impending conflict.

As it turns out, running is a lot harder than it seems. I'd ran out of breath barely a block into my mad dash and was ignoring a stitch in my side by the time I got close to where the gunshot came from. And of course it was in an out of the way alley. Nice and secluded and stereotypical.

I hid behind a dumpster to catch my breath and try to figure out what was happening. No need to rush headlong into an unknown death trap. I snuck my head around the edge of the dumpster or a peek.

Two men, heads shaved as a symbol of their allegiance to the the Empire Eighty-Eight, were talking to a black girl in trashy clothes. She was probably a couple years younger than myself. Their tones were harsh and, yup, there was a gun out.

"know better than-" was the only fragment I could make out from the armed skinhead. Undoubtedly something vaguely threatening and thuggish. And…was he drunk? It was hard to tell from this distance, but there was a definite slur to his speech. The girl didn't seem to hear him either, her entire being focused on the gun being waved around. To her credit she seemed to be more collected than I would have been. She wasn't shaking or anything.

The gunman seemed to take offence to her lack of cowering. His gun waving became more frantic. He also looked sort of pissed.

Alright, situation assessed, and it wasn't looking good. But what could I do here? I was just a healer. I didn't have enhanced strength, or durability or even a weapon to use. Nope, I just had pretty lights that sealed cuts and took away your sniffles.

Not particularly helpful here. Though I could wait it out and heal her afterwards. Sure, she'd get roughed up for a while but that wasn't anything a _**cure**_ couldn't solve. Even if that plan did leave a decidedly bitter taste in my mouth. And I kind of hated myself for thinking it. It reminded me too much of the stance my classmates took to my bullying.

More talking, mostly muffled. What I did make out sent a chill shivering down my spine.

" -take care of you-"

The gun was pointed straight at her head.

There was a certainty in his stance. He didn't seem to be posturing. He really wanted to kill her.

My body was moving even as my mind was screaming about how stupid it was being. I rushed with everything I had towards the girl, with no idea on what I would do once I finally got there. What I did know was that I couldn't heal a dead body, and a bullet to the head was certainly fatal. There was no coming back from that. Not with all the magical, healing lights in the world.

Time seemed to slow as I surged forward and I realized that the distance was too great. There was no chance of me getting there before it was too late. I drew out what power I could, wishing and pleading for something that could save her. There had to be something I could do! Anything!

And then my mouth began to move on its own. Words flowed into my mind before spewing forth from my mouth, leaving the knowledge of a new spell in their place. " _ **Bestow an aegis of light. Stoneskin!**_ " I felt what energy still remained in me spill forth, leaving my body feeling empty and hollow. A void inside my being that _hurt_.

What left me shot towards the girl, globs of Earthen colored lights which covered the girl and surrounded her in a protective shield. It set into place like a second skin before dimming into obscurity.

Then the gun fired. A deafening boom followed by a yelp of surprise.

There was a light 'tink' as a crushed bullet fell to the ground. It hadn't been able to penetrate the shield I'd made.

Everyone looked down towards the bullet, then back towards the spectacularly unharmed girl.

She smirked. "Awesome."

She kneed her assailant in the groin and watched him drop straight onto the ground. For good measure she stepped on the hand that was holding the gun until it loosened its grip. She kicked the gun away before sending another to his head, knocking him out.

But in the rush of battle she'd forgotten one important thing: He'd had a friend with him.

A beer bottle was thrown at her head, smashing against the protection granted upon her. It shattered into pieces. The shield followed suit as the dim light that comprised it broke into fragments that dissolved into nothing. The girl didn't seem to notice, if the cocky smirk on her face was any indication.

The other skinhead pulled out a knife and started to charge. The girl stood at the ready for a counterattack, relying on an advantage she no longer had.

I forced myself up again, body protesting with every movement I made. It wasn't just physical exhaustion. The power within me was drained and I didn't realize how reassuring its presence had been until now. Something in me cried out at its absence. Telling me that I needed to stop and rest.

But this wasn't about me.

I arrived just in time to shield the girl from the attack. The knife found its way inside me instead, burying itself deep into the side of my torso. I crumpled to the ground in a scream of pain.

Apparently that was enough of a distraction for the girl to take out the other thug with the same well placed kicks she'd used before.

Not that I noticed any of this. I was much too busy staring at the hilt of the knife jammed in me, blood trickling out around its edge and dripping onto the floor.

My only choice was to try and heal myself. Drawing on strength I didn't have, I began to chant. "Bask —" I started, before gasping in pain. It really hurt to talk or breathe.

" _ **Bask in t**_ _ **he l**_ _ **ight of r**_ _ejuvenation. Cure!"_ No motes of light sprang forth. My reservoir was depleted. I couldn't heal myself.

That made the growing pool of red beneath me all the more frightening. Fear caused my heart to beat faster, and my life spilled out all the faster. Dark spots began to fill my vision as I shuddered and shook.

"Hey!" cried out the girl I'd saved. I'd almost forgotten about her in my panic. "Are you alright?"

At least _she_ seemed alright. That made me kind of happy. And strangely calm. Though, that might've been from the blood loss.

"You're safe," I said with what little breathe I had. A task made rather difficult with the knife buried in my abdomen. "Thats...good…"

I collapsed into darkness.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

I passed in and out of consciousness. Between bouts of darkness were flashes of harsh lights and rough sounds. There was a disorienting feeling of the ground dragging beneath me. Or me being dragged against the ground.

Oh, and pain. Lots of it. So much that the darkness was becoming more and more comforting. Maybe I could just rest in that soft darkness for awhile. There didn't seem to be any pain or sadness in that darkness.

"Hey, stay with me, Sparkles," came a voice, barely piercing the fog around my mind. "You took a knife for me, there's no way in hell I'm letting you die now." She sounded so far away. A tiny noise from across a gaping chasm.

'Ok, if that's what you want'

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

The first sensation that returned to me, oddly enough, was smell. A very familiar, clinical smell. One that managed to be stuffy yet clean, clogged as it was with the scents of antibacterial products.

Yup, I was definitely in a hospital.

Trailing along was my returning sense of touch. I noted a dull ache on my side, which seemed weird. I was pretty sure stab wounds were supposed to hurt more.

I opened my eyes and peered down at myself. The bottom of my hoodie had been raised a bit. My stomach would have been revealed, had it not been covered in mountainous layers of gauze. Oh, and the knife was gone.

I tried to touch the place where I'd been stabbed before my forearm was pulled back like a fish on a line. Literally. There was an IV sticking into me, taped securely to my arm, that hung onto me like a leash. It was attached to a drip of morphine. Well, that explained the lack of pain.

"Good, you're awake."

I startled so hard that the stitches I undoubtedly had nearly ripped open. My head jerks sideways towards the people who had, apparently, been in the room this whole time.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," apologized Armsmaster. _The_ Armsmaster, decked out in his patented midnight-blue tinkertech armor. It shined brightly as if freshly polished and stood as the brilliant symbol of peace it was meant to be. The impression was dampened a bit by the grumpy look he seemed to wear. Was that how he naturally was? It didn't exactly exude friendliness.

Next to him was the hero I recognized as Assault. He felt like the inverse of Armsmaster: stuffed into plain-looking armor, dull and listless. So much red adorned his body that it seemed to bleed into the rest of him, reflecting a light red tint onto his skin and hair. Despite this, his eyes seemed to shine with mirth and his mouth tugged into a smirk friendly enough to disarm a merchant.

"You nearly died," continued Armsmaster when I didn't respond. "Aisha told us what happened."

"Aisha?"

"The girl you saved," Assault chimed in. "You probably didn't get much of an opportunity to ask her name with all the commotion going on."

That's right, I'd saved somebody. Stopped a bullet and took a knife just to keep her safe. And then I passed out, leaving her next to two unconscious neo-nazis who'd tried to kill her and a hero who was busy bleeding out.

"Is she ok?"

"She's doing a lot better than you," Assault answered. "Which brings us to why we're here."

Armsmaster stepped closer and took the seat next to my temporary bed. "We'd like to offer you a position in the Wards."

I blinked in surprise. Armsmaster didn't seem to notice.

"Most young independents don't end up in a good place. A lot of them die, like you almost did. Most of the others are forced into a gang. As a healer, you'll be a prime target for recruitment."

"Your special," Assault added. "Anyone would love to have you on their side. Well, maybe not Lung. Probably doesn't think he can be seriously injured in the first place. Point is, we'd like you on our team!"

Join the Protectorate and become a part of the Wards?

Was that really something I wanted? It...didn't sound tempting. My experience with other teenagers had been tenuous at best and traumatic at worse. Healing was my one escape from everything that wasn't going well in my life. I didn't want to risk tainting that.

Assault sensed my hesitation. "You don't need to answer right away. It's a big decision, it could change your life." He winked at me. "Though, from my experience, it's usually for the better."

"No," Armsmaster cut in harshly, turning towards Assault. "If we don't do something _now_ then somebody else will take her. Probably against her will."

He seemed so certain about it. Was I really in that much danger? An unsuspecting stroll away from being abducted into the Empire or Merchants, forced into whatever role they needed filled. Keeping the villains up as they lead a campaign of ruination across my home.

"Now, now," Assault soothed as the blood drained from my face. "There's another option."

Armsmaster's brow raised, waiting for an explanation.

"We can give little White Mage here some time to think things over. And while she does so, we'll say that she's started the process towards becoming a member. Nothing concrete that couldn't be backed out of, but hopefully enough to keep the gangs from sniffing around too much."

That...could work. "Alright," I said, my voice thick. "That sounds fine."

"But," Armsmaster began, before Assault pushed him to the side. The jostle might've been a bit rougher than was necessary.

Assault handed me a card with the Protectorate's contact information. "Let us know what you decide. Unfortunately, time is a bit of a factor here so don't take forever."

They left just like that. Their departure seemed to signal my next surprise visitor.

It was Panacea and she looked awful. Her hair was messier than before. Her skin a bit pailer. Eyes with darker circles, as if she'd gotten even less sleep than normal. I could practically feel the strange weight that seemed to be pressing on her soul. On the plus side, she was much less panicked than when I'd last seen her. It wasn't much but I'd take what I could get.

She took a deep breath, as if stealing her nerves, before marching over to me. She held out a hand.

"Do I have permission to heal you?"

Uhm...were we supposed to ask for permission first? Who said 'no' to free healing?

I sensed that she was still _**charmed**_. And it scared me that I didn't know what that meant about her.

But maybe she did. And if I wanted to help her, I'd need to show her some trust first.

"Sure," I replied, plopping my hand into hers. There was a sudden and intense itching on my abdomen as the knife wound closed up, the stitches pushed themselves out in the process. Strength returned as new blood formed in my veins, bringing back a more healthy shade to my skin. Feeling returned as the morphine coursing through my body dissipated. The only pain left in me was from the IV that Panacea quickly withdrew from my arm.

"Thanks," I said, unsure of how to carry this budding conversation towards what I really wanted to talk about.

At least Panacea seemed just as lost. She looked torn between desperation and timidity as each warred for supremacy. But, as is usually the case, desperation won.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah," I replied. "We do." Even if I didn't even know exactly what kind of talk we should be having.

"But," she hesitated, "you need to rest first. I had to repurpose some of your fat cells and carbs to make blood. It's important that you eat something and get some sleep.

And...once you're feeling better...contact me on PHO. _Please_." Her plea was laced with so much vulnerability that I couldn't help but agree.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

Back at PHQ, a visibly annoyed Armsmaster was attempting to ignore his coworker and 'friend'.

"You know," stated Assault as he slung an arm over Armsmaster's shoulder. Something that they both knew he hated. "I bet if we'd sent Miss Militia instead of you, we'd have a whole new recruit to start training by now."

"Shut up…"

It stung that he was probably right. But what choice did they have? White Mage had gotten injured and they were the only ones on duty at the time. They'd ran out of time to plan a proper first contact.


	5. Esuna 5

**Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.**

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► **Private message from Panacea**

 **Healing_Lights (10:28 AM):** Hi. You wanted to talk, right? Well, I'm free today.

 **Panacea (12:02 PM):** It's only been a day. Are you really feeling up to it? You should still be resting.

Not that I'm complaining. Just surprised.

 **Healing_Lights (12:02 PM):** I healed myself as soon as I could. I'm all better now!

 **Panacea (12:03 PM):** You can heal yourself?

Nevermind, that's not important.

Today is fine. When would be a good time?

 **Healing_Lights (12:03 PM):** How about soon? Like, in an hour?

 **Panacea (12:03 PM):** It's the middle of a school day…

How about we meet near the Boat Graveyard? It's usually secluded.

I can be at one of the piers by 3:50. That alright with you?

 **Healing_Lights (12:04 PM):** Sure. See you there.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

It was almost time to meet Panacea, and I was nervous.

Really nervous.

Worry after worry ran through my head, each battering against my composure and threatening to leave me a panicked mess.

Worries about making things worse between Panacea and I. Worries about what Panacea even _wanted_ from me. Did she want a cure to whatever was affecting her? Did she want a soundboard?

Worries about getting attacked or hurt. Or stabbed again.

At least I could do something about that last concern. My hand slipped up my white hoodie to triple check that I had, in fact, put on my brand new bullet-proof (and hopefully knife-proof) kevlar vest. It'd been left for me after I'd gotten stabbed, with a note that simply stated: 'A thank you for your work'. I liked to think that it was a gift from the Protectorate as a way to show support. A kind of emotional support to go along with the physical protection.

I let out a calming breathe as my fingers brushed the heavy material. Its presence helped ease my mind, at least a little. A rock to ground myself against.

And just to be extra safe...

" _ **Bestow an aegis of light. Stoneskin!**_ " Earthy motes sprang forth from the ground, hovering around me before they melted into a layer atop my skin. A thin shield of translucent light to guard me against the many horrors of Brockton Bay. Despite its fragile appearance, it had previously taken a bullet at point blank range with strength left to spare. And this one felt...fuller, somehow. Stronger. Wrapping me in a soft, protective warmth.

It's funny how getting stabbed makes you prioritize certain things. Like self protection.

And the ability to flee when necessary.

Which was why I'd also decided to start training myself. Specifically on running and stamina. In fact, jogging to my meeting with Amy sounded like a convenient way to start. How hard could it be?

I sprinted off.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

Huff.

Streets rushed by as I ran awkwardly through them, costume fluttering along. The scarf made this especially difficult, as any stray breeze made it whip around like a dangerously caffeinated snake, coiling and striking unpredictably. It fit the role so well that it even tried to strangle me, as it constricted and tugged at my neck. Other times it would swish around dramatically before flinging itself wholeheartedly at my face.

Puff.

Graffiti passed by, letting me know just which gang's turf I was treading through. Each serving as either a beacon for members or a warning to undesirables. Some of it was even sort of colorful and pretty, if you ignored what it said or represented.

Huff. Puff.

Buildings rested beside me. My pace was just slow enough to make them out. Each dangled in the peripheral of my vision to offer its own temptation. Like that adorable little pastry shop. It seemed like such a wonderful place for me to _stop_ running and order some refreshing tea. Oh look: a nice, restful bookshop to sit comfortably and enjoy some literature in.

Huff. Puff. Huff. Puff.

Nope, I can't do any of that. I'm too busy making my legs feel like their suffused in hellfire while my lungs try to burst out of my torso.

Huff. Puff.

Whoever says they enjoy running is a liar.

Huff. Puff.

A filthy, terrible liar!

They probably say that running is fun just to convince more people to try it. That way they won't be alone in their misery.

My costume fluttered in the wind of my pace, sounding like a flag in a storm. I could practically feel the wind resistance afflicting the pile of fabric smothering me. It made this so much worse. So did the pedestrians I was passing by as they each gave me a bewildered, sometimes even startles, look as I sprinted past them.

What, have they never seen a cape before?

Huff. Puff.

I'd just about reached my destination: The Boat Graveyard. It was painfully hard to miss with so many boats lined along the coast. An ever present reminder of the city's decline.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

Just like Panacea said, the Boat Graveyard was pretty deserted. Not that I could blame people for avoiding the area. The place _was_ awfully depressing. And just a little bit creepy, being surrounded by rusted over derelict ships. This was doing my anxiety any favors.

I looked around a bit but couldn't see anyone that looked like Panacea, or rather Amy Dallon.

Opening up my _**senses**_ , I looked around and continued to jog around. It didn't take long before I spotted something suspicious. There, sitting on a rickety pier, was a girl. And she was _**charmed**_. That had to be Panacea. At least, I hadn't met anyone else who was afflicted with _**charm**_.

And she was obviously in disguise. Her figure was obscured by dark baggy clothes. Eyes covered in sunglasses, justified somewhat by the blaring sunlight of midday. Though the blue cap she wore was overkill, tilted down to hide her face and making her look oddly suspicious. Like an amateur drug dealer who thought she was being sneaky.

It was then that I learned just how hard it was to giggle while wheezing for breathe.

Though it did hurt to realize that she didn't want to be seen meeting me. Was she that concerned about what was going to happen here?

Or...was it me? Did the thought of being seen with _me_ disgust her, like it did Emma?

'No. Nope. Don't think that, Taylor. This is not the time for self doubt!'

The wooden planks of the pier clacked as I rushed over them and the scent of water grew stronger the further out I travelled. The dull, back and forth swishing of water beneath me was strangely soothing. Not that it did all that much to calm the butterflies in my stomach. They might have been fluttering around a bit less erratically, at least.

Finally I'd reached Panacea. Just in time for my muscles to boycott this whole 'exercise' plan.

I plopped to the ground and took in giant gasps of air.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said between long gasps. "Just started - running."

"I can see that. Are you sure it's a good idea to start running? Especially now?"

My breath was starting to return to me, allowing me to talk more like a normal human being rather than one that was suffocating on the air itself.

"Why - wouldn't it - be?"

"You were stabbed. In the gut. _Yesterday!_ " She seemed kind of flustered about it, actually. That was kind of touching. Even if it was probably just her healer tendencies shining through. "You need to be more careful with your body."

"Nah. I healed myself this morning. I'm good as new." I held out my hand, inviting her to take a peek at my much improved physiology.

She gently poked at my hand, not quite willing to commit to full contact. As she did I felt something wash over me. Looking, seeking, leaving me feeling exposed. As if Panacea's power was examining me with some kind of _**sensor**_. I tried to suppress a shudder at the invasion.

Her expression softened and some of her concern fluttered away.

"You do seem a lot better," she acquiesced, before glancing down at my abdomen. "There's still blood on your costume," she noted drily.

"I...haven't had a chance to clean my costume," I sputtered. "Dad would probably notice my costume if I tried to wash it. It's not like I could just waltz into a laundromat and hand over my costume."

Amy blinked. "Why not? I do it all the time. They even have self-service machines."

…..

Huh. Now that I thought about it, that was a surprisingly good question. A secondary, simple disguise would make it at least feasible, if not practical. What do I say to that?

"Uhmmm. Because?"

Yup. That was the best defense I could think of. Now I felt really stupid.

"Phht!" The noise escaped Panacea before she could help it. My answer seemed to throw her into fits. Fits that she tried desperately to hold in. It was a futile fight, however, and her laughter broke free. The sound of it ran wild and unrestrained, loud and heartfelt.

Panacea was laughing. Not _at_ me, but because of me. I couldn't help myself and started laughing too.

The tension drained away as we both pettered down to stifled giggles.

"So, about that talk you wanted?" I asked once we'd both calmed down. She flinched at the question.

"Yeah," She breathed out, playing and fidgeting with her hands restlessly. "You said that I was charmed, right?"

I nodded.

"And that you can get rid of it?" I nodded again, hesitantly. Her tone had given me pause. She sounded so sad. It was like a part of her wanted to keep being charmed.

"You know what it is, don't you? The thing that's _**charmed**_ you."

Panacea's mouth opened to answer, but the words seemed to get stuck in her mouth. Her eyes darted away, as if she was too ashamed to look at me. And...was that a blush dusting her cheeks? It looked at odds against her tired eyes and the stern frown she so adamantly affixed to her face.

She didn't speak. Maybe she couldn't bring herself to give voice to her troubles. Even so, she gave a small nod. I was right, she knew what was going on.

I waited for more information. A minute, maybe two passed before it was clear that no more was forthcoming. Once again I was left without any real answers. Wandering in the dark sea of uncertainty, with the power to change somebody's life in ways beyond my understanding.

What would be best for her?

She was looking at me expectantly.

"Are you sure you want it, whatever it is, gone?" I'd hoped she knew what was best, because I sure didn't.

"Yes...No...it doesn't matter," she replied, voice rising with each word until she was on the verge of screaming. "I have to know!"

The mysteries and questions kept piling up. "Have to know what?"

"If… if my feelings are real."

She looked at me with desperate determination, every part of her laid bare before me. The slight tremble that shot through her body. The dark bags under her tired, bloodshot eyes. Eyes that held just the slightest ember of life fighting against the encroaching darkness of reality.

My heart clenched.

" _ **Purify that which subdues the mind and weakens the body. Esuna.**_ "

A cascade of lights rained down upon Panacea. They cured her of her afflictions before fading into nothing. The faint ember in her eyes dimmed with them, and the darkness took over.

"Oh…" she whispered to herself, eyes watering as she looked vacantly into the distance. "Maybe...it was all a lie after all."

She drifted past me and started back down the pier, moving like a ghost barely clinging to this world. Hauntingly fragile, as if she would fade away with the lightest breeze. A pale imitation of life that no longer belonged.


	6. Repose 1

"Wait!"

The words left me before I could think, before I could formulate a reason for why she shouldn't wander away. It was just...some part of me _knew_ that something needed to be done. That something terrible would happen if things were left the way they were.

It seemed to work too. Panacea stopped, turning back to glance at me, hope bereft from her features. She continued to stare, waiting for a response.

"I could-," I began, digging around for something to say that would cure the pain she was obviously feeling. "Uhm, talk. Or listen. I'd like to think I'm good at that."

She continued to stare absently at me. Sad and listless. Empty. I couldn't let her leave in this state.

"Y'know, like therapy. But the friendly kind? From one healer to another."

She still wasn't responding. She almost seemed to be trapped in her own mind. What more could I do? I tried to remember how mom used to comfort me.

An idea hit me, one that was weird and embarrassing all at once. After all, it wasn't something I was accustomed to, anymore. Realizing its long absence made my heart clench painfully. I wasn't even sure I could do it properly after all this time. But anything was better than inaction. Hopefully.

I walked uneasily towards Panacea, hoping she would respond before I got close. Give some kind of indication that she wasn't currently enthralled in her own miserable mind.

There was no response.

'Well, here goes.' I extended my arms slowly, fighting the urge to back off from touching her, and wrapped them around her in a hug. I tried to give her a comforting squeeze, unsure if I was doing it right.

She stiffened, and for a second I was worried that this wasn't what she needed. That I had just invaded her personal space and compromised mine for no reason.

Then the floodgates opened. Returning to herself, Panacea broke down in my arms, melting into my embrace and crying out for everything she was worth. Spilling tears into my costume until I could feel the dampness through layers of fabric and wailing against the injustices of the world.

Panacea lost her strength in her grief and, me being about as strong as paper, couldn't hold the weight leaning against me. We fell down and I did everything in my power to hold onto her and take the brunt of the impact. Ignoring the pain radiating on my back, I continued to cradle the poor girl.

"Shhh," I whispered back to her as I softly pat her back. Mimicking what Mom had done in some distant, comforting memory. "It's alright. Let it all out."

An eternity passed before she started to calm down. Her trail of tears petered out into soft sniffles and the occasional, shuddering sob.

"I'm here if you want to talk," I offered.

Amy inhaled sharply before another sob broke through. "Victoria," she said, voice breaking on the name. "I loved her." It came out like a confession of sin. "But apparently that was a lie."

Victoria? As in Victoria Dallon? Was _that_ the person who mastered Panacea? Sure, Glory Girl had the ability to instill fear or admiration, but it was temporar-

Wait...what if the effect wasn't temporary?

And that was when the pieces all came together in my confused and addled mind.

'I loved her' she had said. But not in the way normal siblings did. Her voice, tired and sad as it was, held more potent emotions than familial love.

No, it couldn't be.

But it _had_ to be. It was the only thing that made sense. It explained so much: Why Panacea would be so scared of being **cured**. The sheer terror she had when I mentioned that she was _**charmed**_. How she seemed to _know_ what was causing it, even while she was too afraid to confront the truth.

Her words kept echoing in my head: 'I loved her.'

"But you don't, anymore?" Was that what I had ripped away from her? Her attraction and love for her sister.

"I'm not sure," she admitted between sniffles. "You used your power and then my feelings changed. They were...smaller. Weaker. The moment you cured me I could feel some of those feelings slip through my hands."

'Weaker,' I noted in my mind. Not gone. Weaker.

Panacea continued, gushing her thoughts out as they came. Her hands clenched onto my costume fiercely, like it was a lifeline. "I- I can't even think of her the same way. Her flaws seem so much more...obvious. That must be the real Vicky. And a part of myself is _angry_ at what she did to me."

"But," I ventured, "You still do have feelings for her, right?"

She gasped, horrified. She lifted herself up with her hands, face uncomfortably close to mine.

"I'm still affected by her, aren't I?" She asked, aghast. "I can't go back to that, knowing it was all a lie. You have to do it again. Cure me. Please!"

"Wait, wait!" I squeaked, hands instinctively gripping Panacea's shoulders and pushing her -gently- away. Just enough so that she wasn't so uncomfortably close. Belatedly, I realized she might think I was trying to rid myself of her or push her away from me entirely. I kept my grip and squeezed her shoulders a bit to try and reassure her that I was still her for her, just in case.

"Listen," I started, looking firmly into her eyes. "Her effect on you, whatever it was, is gone now. Completely. Absolutely. I can't _**sense**_ it any more, at _all_ -"

Panacea tried to interject, but I pressed on before she could get a word of denial in.

"The feelings you have for her right now? That love you're feeling right now? That's all you."

When the words hit her, she seemed bewildered. Maybe even hopeful.

"It wasn't a lie. At least, not all of it. The feelings that mattered were real. Are still real."

Tears welled up in her eyes once more and another crying session began. I was surprised she had any energy, let alone water, left in her to bawl out. By the end of it she had lost all her strength and had somehow found herself in a new comfortable position...lying on top of me. With her head in my lap...

"Uh-uhm…Panacea?"

"Amy," she whispered with what little energy she had left. "My friends call me Amy."

"O-Ok," I replied, unsure of what to do in this situation. I couldn't just push her off of me, not after everything that'd happen-

Wait...friends?!

"Hey, White Mage?" She continued softly, oblivious to the meltdown going on in my mind. "Thanks."

"Sure." I replied in a voice that most certainly wasn't high pitched. No, sir. "That's what friends are for."

She fell asleep right then and there. Head lying comfortably in my lap while she got some much needed rest.

I, on the other hand, was wide awake and suddenly alone with my thoughts.

And what, exactly, were those thoughts? Here, I'll share them with you:

'Please, _please_ don't let anybody come out here. This is _really_ embarrassing.'


	7. Repose 2

~~ Repose ~~ (2 of 2)

 **Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.**

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You are viewing:

 **Topic: Panacea is on a Healing Spree!**

 **In: Boards ► America ► Brockton Bay ►Requests**

► **10CCsOfJustice** (Verified Doctor) (Original Poster)  
Posted on February 20th, 2011:

Our residential healer has been on an extraordinary healing binge lately.

At this rate, there might not be enough sick and injured for us regular ol' doctors.

Thank you Panacea!

(Showing page 1 of 2)

► **SquishyMortal  
** (Replied on February 20th, 2011)

Can confirm. Went to the hospital after stepping on a nail. Y'know, tetanus shot and all that.

Low and behold, Panacea bothered to take a minute to check me out. And heal the hole the nail left.

Didn't think she bothered with things like that.

Edit: Not that I'm complaining, or anything.

► **HardHat  
** (Replied on February 20th, 2011)

"Our residential healer"

Think you're forgetting about our other residential healer, OP.

White Mage may be new, but she's been doing a lot of hospital work, too. Gotta give her some recognition, too.

► **Supreme  
** (Replied on February 20th, 2011)

To HardHat: While you're at it, Othala can also heal people. Doesn't she qualify as a 'residential healer'?

► **10CCsOfJustice** (Verified Doctor) (Original Poster)  
(Replied on February 20th, 2011)

To HardHat: Sorry, forgot about her in the excitement over here. No disrespect to her, I just don't see her at my hospital a lot.

Wonder if it's because Panacea frequents us so often. Do you think healers can have their own turf wars?

To Supreme: No. Just no. We only count the capes who selflessly heal those who really need it, rather than just those with the 'right' skin tone.

► **HopefulMarshmellow  
** (Replied on February 20th, 2011)

Guess this finally answers the White Mage vs. Panacea debate.

Good work Panacea!

 **► CapeFanatic21  
** (Replied on February 20th, 2011)

To SquishyMortal: Wait, she treated something that minor?

I might have a chance to meet her, then! Off to the hospital to treat my oh-so-severe hangnail.

 **► Providence  
** (Replied on February 20th, 2011)

To CapeFanatic21: You're a terrible person. I hope you know that...

► **Glory_Girl** (Confirmed Cape)  
(Replied on February 20th, 2011)

Yeah, way to go Sis!

Though, I've kind of missing you lately.

Also,

To CapeFanatic21: If I catch you pulling that on sis, I'll make sure you get to her with an injury more worthy of her attention.

 _ **User Received a Warning.**_

 _ **Tin Mother: Threats are not allowed, no matter the reason.**_

► **HopefulMarshmellow  
** (Replied on February 20th, 2011)

To Glory_Girl: Aww, sorry to hear that.

Don't worry! She can't keep healing forever. :)

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

Amy seemed to be doing a lot better, if her newfound vigor was any indication.

It wouldn't be until a few days later when I realized how wrong I was.

Our next encounter started much like our first. The misery that was school had ended and I'd just gotten ready for my first round at the hospital.

And then...

Thwack! I hadn't even gotten off the elevator to the second floor before I'd bashed into something soft and tumbled to the ground in a heap of swirling white fabric.

Shaking my head, I looked at what had been in my way. Or rather, who.

Panacea lay in her own pool of eschewed cloth. Staring right back at me. It must've been an unusual sight from the outside, seeing two capes with near-identical costume schemes slamming into each other as if they had ran into their own reflections.

She recovered faster than I did, greeting me with a smile and a blush. She was probably realizing how embarrassing it was to bump into me after what happened a few days ago. You know, when she poured her soul out to me, before crying herself to exhaustion and falling asleep. On top of me. My mind wandered to that exact scene and I, too, flushed with embarrassment. Even as the memory filled me with a warmth not related to the blood rushing to my face.

I fought to control the heat afflicting my face. I refused to make our first friendly meeting awkward. Not after everything we went through. Not after she'd called me a friend.

"Hey, White Mage," she greeted as we both scrambled to our feet. Her words were short and succinct, as if she was rushing through them. Not a particularly friendly way to say hello, but I could still detect a hint of warmth buried within.

That's when I got a better look at her. There was some happiness in her features, if the faint smile she sent me was anything to go by. But the rest of her? It made me worry. The bags I'd become accustomed to seeing under her eyes had darkened considerably. She was sickeningly pale and looked like she had lost weight she couldn't really afford to lose.

"Hi Amy," I replied. "It's great to see you." I smiled, trying hard to not show my concern and worry. Friends were supposed to be supportive, right? "I haven't seen you at this hospital before. Did you come to help me out?" We didn't really claim medical centers, per se, but this one had become my main stomping grounds.

"Oh." She seemed to just now realize that I, too, had the power to heal. "I, uh, already fixed everyone up."

"You _what_?" It wasn't even 4 pm. This wasn't even a hospital in her usual rounds!

"Well, everyone they let me," she quickly amended, seeing my expression. "I couldn't heal everyone. There's a few new coma patients you can probably fix on the third floor. A couple brain tumors, too. Things I can't touch with my powers."

Did she really not see the problem here?

There was a faint buzz and Amy took out her phone. Her lips pursed as she read something on the screen and tucked it back into her costume.

"I've gotta head over to Brockton Hospice."

Apparently not. This wasn't a healing spree, this was self-destruction.

Damn it Amy, I'm not letting you do this to yourself.

She made her way past me into the elevator I had just come out of. The doors started to close and I had to swivel, dash and leap to make it back in. I'd somehow managed to not fall in the process and landed next to a startled Amy. The surprised yelp that escaped her was kind of adorable.

"What are you doing?" she squeaked out.

"I'm coming to help," I answered.

She didn't seem overly fond of this idea. "But what about your usual rounds?"

"Didn't you hear? They've been taken care of. Now it's my turn to help with yours."

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

My plan was a simple one. If Amy was going to go heal-crazy, I would just have to take as much of her workload off her hands as I could. It was working, too. At least for the first handful of hours. But, in the end, I just couldn't keep up with her.

Patient after patient. Emergency after emergency. She was non-stop, a veritable hurricane of restoration. I'd only managed to patch up about a third of the patients presented to us before I was worn out, nearing the limits of my power. Amy though? She kept going. And going.

She never really seemed to stop. Even after she could no longer suppress her yawns. Even as her eyelids threatened to flutter shut one last time and submit to her exhaustion. She was steadfast, allowing no distractions to slow her down. No matter how sluggish she was becoming or how much her stomach grumbled with hunger.

I put my foot down after the third such audible growl from her stomach.

"Amy, let's go get something to eat."

She tore her eyes away from her patient roster to glance at me. "After a few mor-"

"No. Now." I spoke firmly, broking no argument. She shot me an annoyed look for threatening to break her stride. I could tell she was about to fight this every inch of the way.

I decided to try a different tactic. "I'm really hungry. C'mon, eat with me."

'Smile Taylor,' I reminded myself, fixing one onto my face. 'She's your friend now and she really needs this. Even if trying to help her is incredibly frustrating.'

It worked. After another couple seconds of consideration she nodded and lead me to the staff cafeteria. I grabbed a plastic tray piled with spaghetti while Amy took out a few snack bars from within the folds of her costume. I made sure she tried some of my spaghetti and gave her the bit of garlic bread that came with it.

We ate for awhile. Amy stuffed her face with snack bars like a chipmunk, huddling into herself as she took quick nibbles out of the bar. I deliberately took my time with my pasta and sauce. She would have to sit here and _not work_ for as long as I ate. Besides, it really was good.

See? A nice, simple dinner shared between friends. Even if the silence between us was unbearable. Interrupted only by the vibration of Amy's phone before she pulled it out and read a message, body tensing slightly.

"So," I began. "We should do stuff together. Want to catch a movie tomorrow?"

Subtle I was not. Amy recognized my weak attempt to interrupt her healing crusade, if only for an evening. Even if I did really want to spend time with her. Laugh, have fun, enjoy each others company. Something I hadn't gotten to do with anyone in such a long time.

No, this was for Amy...getting away from my own problems for a few hours was just an added bonus.

"Can't," she replied as she took the last few bites of her granola bar. "I already have plans." Noticing that I'd also finished my food, she got up and started to march away. "Thanks for having dinner with me. Let's get back to work."

I followed her out of the cafeteria, moving quickly just to keep pace with her.

"Are you really sure you don't want to see a movie with me? We can go in costume, watch some kind of horror show and make fun of the bad effects."

She kept her stride up, swiftly navigating through the hallways of the hospital. She didn't look back as she replied. Like she couldn't bring herself to look at me. "I told you, I'm busy."

"With what?" I demanded, temper finally boiling over as my frustration leaked out.

"Healing."

Enough! I was done with this. I grabbed her arm from behind, holding onto her until she stopped walking. She finally turned back to shoot me an angry, bitter glare. A glare that hurt more than I wanted to admit. Some part of it reminded me of Emma and I couldn't help but feel that this friendship would end in ruins, just like the last.

"Why are you doing this? You're going to work yourself to death."

"It's my duty. I have to-"

"No, don't give me that. We're friends now, right? I want to know the truth-"

Amy tried to stammer out more excuses, more denials and deceptions. Tried to obscure the root of her pain.

"-because I can't help you if I don't."

Something snapped in her. "It's all I have!" she screamed.

"My family's a mess. Mom doesn't like me, not really. Dad tried, at least, before he became too depressed to care. Victoria was the only person who seemed to give a damn about me. She was always there for me. But I can't even bring myself to talk to her anymore! Not since you ' _fixed'_ me. It's like I've lost her, too.

"So now I have nothing left. Nothing but this stupid power and my _responsibility_ to heal others with it."

My body reacted before I could control it, responding to the burgeoning, burning emotions bubbling within before my mind could tell it to stop. My hand lashed out and slapped Amy across the face, hard enough to leave my hand stinging afterward.

"Stupid!" I shouted at her. "Like hell you've lost Victoria! She's still your sister, and you still love each other. I _know_ that. Because, even _after_ I healed you, she still mattered. Mattered enough that you cried yourself ragged over those feelings.

"You said that Victoria's always been there for you, right? So talk to her, I bet she'll be there for you again."

"And..." I added, more gently this time, "You've still got me.

"That's hardly nothing."

Amy held a hand up to her face, covering the spot that I'd hit. She wasn't looking at me, instead casting her gaze towards the floor and hiding herself in the hood of her costume.

"Do you really mean it?" Her voice was soft and meek.

"We've been over this before. Your feelings for her weren-

"No," she interrupted. "Did you mean it when you said that you're here for me? That I've still got you?"

"I've stuck with you so far, haven't I?" _Even if Amy had made it really, really difficult._

We both stood there. Amy continued looking away from me, head hidden by her cloak. The silence dragged on and on.

And on.

"I'm so tired," Amy finally said as her body drooped a bit.

"Well, yeah. You've been going overboard all day." I gently grasped her hand. "Here, let's find you a place to rest." I took her to the nearest empty room and helped her onto a bed. If any of the nurses cared that Panacea was taking up a room, then too bad for them. She needed my help, and as far as I was concerned she ranked higher on the priority list than the other patients.

She was getting comfortable when her phone buzzed again. She reached into her robes for it.

"Stop," I pleaded. Amy's hand froze just as she brought her phone out into the open. "No more messages. No more work. You need to rest. _Please_."

Her fingers whitened as she gripped her phone desperately, fingers poised over the phone and ready to answer it. She was still wearing herself out. Running herself down. Charging forward even as it destroyed her.

After everything I've done for her - after all my efforts - I couldn't fix her. In the end, I failed to heal the heart of the first friend I'd made since Emma's betrayal. It seemed the saying was true, you couldn't save somebody from themself.

And then she held her hand out, offering the phone to me. "Take it."

I had never before felt such relief at two simple words. I gingerly took it from her hands.

"Thank you."

She wrapped some blankets atop herself and closed her eyes. The past day, probably the past week, caught up to her all at once. Sleep took her immediately and I was happy to see her brow relax and hear her breathing become calm. She looked so serene that I couldn't help but smile.

I made my way out of the room and immediately plopped onto the ground. Amy wasn't the only one working hard, after all. The exhaustion of keeping up with her had finally gotten to me. The phone in my hand buzzed again, reminding me of its existence. I checked the screen, expecting to see messages asking for Panacea's help.

Instead, they were texts from Glory Girl:

\- 'Come home tonight. I miss you.'  
\- 'We'll do something fun! Promise.'  
\- 'Please, sis?'

It could wait until morning. I was too tired to worry about it now. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep resting against the door.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

A rumbling against my thigh woke me up early the next morning. It was Amy's cell phone, vibrating angrily at me. Still waking up, I fumbled for the phone and checked the screen with bleary eyes. It was a call from Victoria Dallon.

Before I could think of what to do about the call the door I was resting against opened up, leaving my upper body completely unsupported. An undignified 'eep' spilled out of my mouth as I fell backwards, arms flailing wildly, and ended up sprawled on the floor.

I looked up to find a much more refreshed Amy staring back. At the very least the bags under her eyes had diminished and there was a small but renewed sparkle in her eyes. Her skin was more flushed and less pale. She wasn't back to 100 by any stretch of the imagination, but she looked healthier and happier.

"Morning," I said up to her.

She smiled back at me. A true smile. One I hadn't ever seen her give before.

"Hi," she replied back. "Did you want to get up anytime soon, or just stay on the ground forever?" Her voice was a bit playful, a stark contrast to how terse she had been the day before. I laughed, more from the joy of seeing her happy than anything else.

With some effort, I got back to my feet. I stretched my arms and back, trying to pop out the kinks I'd gotten from sleeping in a weird position all night. "Are you feeling any better?"

Amy nodded. "I am. A lot better. In fact, I think I'm ready to go back home...and talk to Vicky."

"And take it easy for awhile," I added hopefully. It came out closer to a question than a remark.

"Yeah. I'll take it easy. Promise."

Amy's phone started buzzing again. Another call, this time from Carol Dallon. "Speaking of home," I quipped before handing her the phone. She saw the name on the screen and winced, just a little. She stared uncomfortably at the screen as the buzzing continued, demanding her attention. Much as she may have wished, she couldn't hold off this conversation forever. She answered the phone.

"Hi Mom," she greeted. Muffled voices were all I could hear from the phone.

Amy's face paled a bit as she listened. Finally, she replied with a "Y-yeah, I'll go." She told Carol which hospital we were at and hung up. She turned to me, ashen faced.

"Endbringer attack," she breathed out. "The Simurgh's landed in Canberra. Mom wants me on standby to help out. Vicky's on her way to pick me up."

...

"What should I do?"

"Stay here." She said it sternly but failed to hide the fear in her voice. A fear for my safety, scared about what might happen to me if I went along.

She continued, softer this time. "I'll want to see a friendly face when I get back."

(~~~~~~)

AN: Anybody willing to help me prep future chapters? Mostly with consistency, flow and whether it has the proper spark to it. Also, I don't have much confidence and having somebody give me the thumbs up beforehand helps.

The next chapter is giving me a lot of trouble. Trying to converge my ideas and emotions into a singular path.


	8. Repose 3

Amy wanted me to stay here while she went to an Endbringer attack. An attack she could very well die in. Endbringers were unpredictable forces of destruction, after all. Even on standby, or set off as a reserve emergency responder, there was no way to ensure her safety.

And she wanted me to stay here while she risked her life against an actual monster, aiding others who would be put more directly into the line of fire. People who could use as much support as possible to survive...support I could help provide, if I threw myself into that crucible as well.

Could I really stand by, knowing what was happening?

Amy was worried for me and, honestly, I was too. If things didn't go well - and they never did during an Endbringer attack - I could get injured. I could die. Or worse, I could be _changed_ by the Simurgh, become a living time bomb of destruction.

My hands grasped the sleeves of my hoodie in an attempt to control their shaking. What was the best thing for me to do? I studied Amy's face, trying to read her. She was smiling weakly at me, probably awaiting a warm farewell and some final comforting words before departing. She put on a brave face to reassure me that everything would be fine, but it was weak and fragile, a veil that couldn't conceal the underlying dread churning beneath.

I couldn't abandon her. Not in the face of something like this. Not after everything I put into helping her.

And not when other capes would need me, too. I could make a difference. Keep many of them alive. Help out in a fight that truly _mattered_.

My mind was made up, but the terror was still there, prowling in the back of my mind. It threatened to hold me back. I took a breath to calm myself and focussed everything I had on my determination to help, drowning my fears with an iron resolve until they were no more than small crystals of icy despair in the pit of my stomach.

"Nope," I finally replied, and I'm proud to note that I was able to keep most of the tremble out of my voice. "I'm coming with you."

The brave face Amy feigned shattered instantly.

"What?" she spat out. "But-!" she began desperately, then stopped. There were just too many objections running through Amy's head. A veritable avalanche of them slammed into the forefront of her thoughts, all at once. Her mind couldn't choose just one to through out!

"But, It'll be dangerous!" was what Amy settled on.

Did Amy think I was stupid? Could she not see the mild tremors I couldn't quite suppress? Was she unable to hear the light quiver in my voice? Of course I knew it would be dangerous. "All the more reason for me to be there. The heroes will need all the help they can get."

"It'll be horrible. These attacks are nightmares. _Literal_ nightmares."

"I know-"

"No, you don't!" Amy exclaimed, the heat of her reaction stopping me short. "You can't, not until you've been through one."

"And..." she added when I didn't respond, voice cracking. "And you could die." She stepped closer and desperately grasped at the sleeves of my robes. Her eyes looked at me, almost pleading. I could feel her trembling through both her costume _and_ mine. "I need to know that you'll be safe, that something good in my life will stay safe."

She looked like she would break if I came with her and something horrible happened to me. Why did she seem more terrified about my death than about the Endbringer itself?

My heart clenched.

I'd forgotten what it was like to have a friend that actually cared about me; a friend who still needed me.

It felt warm.

…

Damnit…

"At least let me see you off."

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

We got outside as the night sky was just beginning to lighten. The sun was still hiding just beyond the horizon, threatening to usurp the twilight surrounding us. The sky was painted with beautiful blues, pinks and oranges. A gentle wind caressed us both, rustling our costumes as we waited for Glory Girl to come pick up Amy.

Everything felt at odds with the fact that they were going off to fight an Endbringer, like the world itself was trying to hide a terrible truth from us.

I tried to think of something to talk about, but what do you say at a time like this? Do I wish her luck? Should I try to take her mind off things?

It was then that I saw the figure of Glory Girl gliding towards us along the horizon. As soon as Glory Girl landed in front of us she wrapped Amy into a fierce hug. I saw Victoria whisper something to Amy, and was just barely able to catch her soft words: "I've missed you."

They held each other for a moment before Victoria tightened her grip, holding the healer against herself firmly, as they got ready for takeoff. It was cute how Amy blushed at the contact. They floated gently off the ground before picking up speed, heading to where they were needed most, looking stoic and heroic.

But I just couldn't shake the feeling that I'd never see them again. That they'd become just another statistic in an Endbringer fight. That every inch they flew forward was another step on the march towards their deaths.

"Wait!" I shouted frantically. They stopped midair, turning back to face me. Victoria looked a bit surprised, as if she hadn't quite noticed my presence before or wasn't expecting me to say anything as they flew away.

"Please," I pleaded to Victoria. "take-" and then the words died in my mouth as I saw the look on Amy's face. It was apprehensive, wary of what I had to say. As if she knew what I wanted to ask - to join in that march with them, so they wouldn't have to do it alone.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't ask Victoria to take me with them.

It would be a betrayal to Amy. Just putting the question out there would hurt her. Worse, if Victoria agreed, she would be hurting Amy as well, whether she knew it or not. It would put strain on the bond they shared, bonds that were mending. It wasn't right to ask.

"Take care of each other out there," I amended. Glory Girl gave a fervent nod, eyes shining with determination to keep her sister safe. Determination that I had no doubt would imbue her with the strength she would need to face hell itself.

Amy graced me with a small, relieved smile.

Then they took off with decisive speed, plowing through the air effortlessly. The wind from their departure caused my costume to flap about.

And there I was, left behind, with nothing left to do but wander home.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

Have you ever noticed how 'walking' and 'wandering' were very different things? They might seem like the same thing, on paper, but that was a trap. Sometimes even a devious one. It all came down to of nuance, and sometimes nuance mattered a lot.

Walking was about purpose, the act done with direction, both physical and mental. You _walked_ to your destination, or you _walked_ to put your thoughts in order.

That was how I knew I wasn't walking. Nope, I was wandering, and wandering was an aimless endeavour. Something one did when they didn't quite want to reach their destination in a timely manner. It was movement devoid of purpose, as you meandered to and fro, unsure of which path you really wanted to take. Even more insidious was the way wandering about prompted your thoughts and emotions to wander right along with you.

Which was why I was currently drowning in my emotions.

Chief among them was worry. Worry for Amy and whether anything would happen to her. Whether she would come back alright and in one piece, or whether she would come back wounded and battered.

If she came back, I amended in my head. For all I knew, that was the last time I'd see Amy alive.

And then my mind, the trecherous thing that it was, forced a nightmarish vision onto me. A vision that made my heart stop in horror: Panacea buried under rubble, struggling to cry out for help as blood permeated her costume to paint it a violent crimson.

I should have forced myself to go along with them, consequences be damned. But I didn't, and now there was nothing I could do to help her, no action I could do to protect her from whatever fate awaited her at the hands of the Simurgh.

That was when the sense of helplessness consumed me. And with it came despair. A sensation that was painfully familiar in every other aspect of my life, and was now trying to worm its way into my cape identity. I could feel it's approach. Really _feel_ it, as something almost physical. It was a poisonous, writhing insect coiling around my heart as it tried to strangle out what little happiness I'd found as White Mage.

'C'mon Taylor, you're better than this. White Mage is better than this!' A familiar set of words that I said to myself often. They gave me strength. Strength I needed for when Emma said something particularly hurtful, or when Sophia was being rougher than usual. But each time I said that mantra to myself, those words lost some of their power.

And so I kept wandering through Brockton Bay, worried to death about Amy and trying to not wallow in my painful inability to protect her. It was a fight I was losing. The feeling seemed to permeate out of my body, painting the world around me in a coat of despondency. The buildings looked more decrepit, decaying from more than just their age. People walked by each other, putting wary distance between one another as if afraid of each others' mere existnece. Except for the homeless that were scattered about. They barely seemed to exist, mere shadows that one kept in the peripheral of their sight.

I'd known all my life that Brockton Bay was hurting. But it had never felt quite so real to me as it did in that moment. The people were hurting, their hearts under assault from the hardships presented to them. Their willpower eroded by difficult choices born from even more difficult circumstances.

Nobody quite said it, or put words to it, but the city was losing a fight against its own despair. Hopelessness was a cancer that quickly spread throughout. A disease that needed to be healed before it destroyed Brockton Bay.

I knew what that was like, because I'd been there before. So I made my own hope. That was what being White Mage was to me: hope. I went out as a cape wanting to bring happiness into others lives, and my own. Each person I saved was another person who was happier because of me. Another little mote of light I could reflect on when the darkness came too close.

I focused on those moments, those little lights of happiness that I had spread throughout the city as a cape, and felt their warmth fill me up. The helplessness and despair inside me were bannished by their radiance.

I had made a real difference for each of those people. My efforts had made their lives better in a concrete, undeniable way.

And yet, I now realized that my work wasn't sufficient. I hadn't been doing enough. The city itself was suffering, just as I was.

It needed hope. Because hope was important. It was _necessary_. You had to _know_ that the future could be better, that it would _in fact_ be better.

I would bring that hope to Brockton Bay. Even if it took every single mote of healing light at my disposal and all the encouraging smiles I could muster.

I wasn't able to fix the problems in the life of Taylor Hebert, but I was not going to allow everything else to die and rot away as well. Not as long as I was White Mage!

And with that same determination I made another resolution, a more personal one. I resolved to believe, truly believe, that Amy would come back safe. And when she came back, I would be there for her. Be the friend she would need. Because she had wounds that powers couldn't heal, and I would do what it took to help them mend.

(~~~[END]~~~)

Thanks to KillaAxeMan on for helping me with the beta! Really appreciate the insight and suggestions.

A/N: Not everything can be bright and happy, and Taylor does have a hard life outside of being White Mage. Don't expect a sudden pivot into eternal darkness, but Taylor is a bit damaged and it's sometimes hard to keep that darkness at bay. Having said that, I do love fluff, humor and happiness, and the world needs more of that good stuff! :)

A/N 2: Taylor will not get the ability to raise the dead. Full stop. Please don't make more posts about the potential to raise the dead. It's not going to happen. Keep that can of worms firmly sealed, please!


	9. Omakes (1-3)

The following are some Omakes I made in response to some messages I've seen in regards to the fic. Each of the messages will be shown in bold, the omake is posted after it.

None are canon, all are silly.

Enjoy!

 **Message: I want to see Mini cast on Lung.**

You know what? Me too!

(In a Universe where White Mage starts off her journey on the canon train.)  
 _Omake: A Mini Dragon_

" ** _Mini!_** "

You know, I'd kind of expected Lung to be more of a badass. After all, he was arguably the strongest gang leader in Brockton Bay. Hell, the first words I'd heard from him was about killing innocent children.

And here he was, a one foot tall pile of adorable. A humanoid dragon, flapping its wings around as it tried to hover in the air. A tiny dragon staring at his tiny hands with the cutest look of surprise on his face.

" 'ill 'ou! " he snarled, voice unusually high and mewling. A little fireball launched out of his hand, before falling to the floor and petering out.

"Adorable! I wonder if it'd be ok to keep him."

A roar like a kitten escaped Lung. The tiniest gang leader in all of Brockton Bay.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

 **Message: Bored, thinking of ways to murderheal people.**

 _Omake: Gaming the System, Sequel to Mini_  
 _AKA: Lung just can't take a joke!_

"Do it, quickly!" I yelled at the shaking nurse, trying to keep the fear from my voice.

Lung stepped ever closer. A hatred burning in his eyes stronger than the flames surrounding him. The heat of his ire beat mercilessly against me.

"I- I," the nurse tried, before fear stole her voice. She took another step backwards, eyes fixed on her impending death. And bumped into me.

My heart beat so fast it hurt. The crackle of nearby flames drown out by blood rushing in my ears. Each breathe filled my lungs with scorching heat.

"Hey," I shook the nurse, dragging her head to face me and looking into her eyes. I hoped desperately that she couldn't hear the panic in my voice. That she didn't feel the tremors of terror threatening to take over. And that she could draw strength from courage I tried to convince myself I had.

"You can do this…you have to do this." The nurse quivered in my grasp but finally obeyed, stammering out the rehearsed line.

"Lung, I d-declare you legally dead."

Turning back towards Lung, I _**sensed**_ for a change. And there it was!

He was legally dead, but he still moved. Still acted and fought. Through the barest of technicalities, he was a walking corpse. A **_zombified_** parahuman.

 _ **Lost soul, seek the light which smothers the shadow of Death. Raise!**_

A blast of purifying light poured down from the sky.

And Lung now rest in peace.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

 **Message: I find it funny, Taylor gets a cold, sneezes, accidentally casts Hastega on Armsmaster as he drives by, only for him to go super fast and end up hitting the side of Squealers newest tank monster.**

Huh...well, that could be...but, wait, how would a sneeze result in...

No, gimme a sec, I think I got this! Not exactly as you intended, but I like the basic idea.

Also, colds could be cured. Guess what can't be...: )

 _Silly, Sleep-Deprived Omake: "Bless You"_

In an alternate reality where White Mage has allergies...

My powers were, quite frankly, amazingly versatile. I could heal practically anything. Brain tumor? No problem. Burned horribly? I got'cha! On the verge of death itself, feeling your soul being heralded by angles to the great beyond? Nuh-uh, a few motes from me and you were stuck on the mortal plane with the rest of us.

But allergies? Nope, my bullshit powers apparently couldn't touch allergies, no matter how many healing sparkles I threw at myself.

"Haaa-tshk!"

And I was sneezing like crazy. I tried desperately to hide it from the nurses hovering about, but there was only so much you could do to mask a sneeze. Trying to shut my mouth mid-sneeze just resulted in them ending with embarrassing, squeaky nonsense!

"Haaa-fsk!"

And what do I get for trying to work while being afflicted by these annoyances? Lots of dirty looks from the nurses. Sure, I may have accidentally sneezed on a patient once or twice, but I wasn't actually sick and allergies weren't contagious.

I don't think they believed me, though, because they urged me to take the rest of the night off and ushered me out onto the streets.

And right into Armsmaster. THE Armsmaster, right here at my hospital! I was so star-strucked that I barely noticed the person with him, obviously a cape and probably a villain, given their rather dark and edgy garments.

"Shadow Stalker," Armsmaster said sternly. "You know that physical exams are an important part of the Wards program."

"Fine," Shadow Stalker answered brusquely, figuring that there was no point in arguing. "But did you really have to bring me here yourself? It's just a hospital, not like I couldn't handle the walk here." She smirked, and something about it seemed ferocious. "Even _if_ something happened on the way."

Armsmaster paused, before simply asking: "Would you have actually gone to the hospital by yourself?"

"Yes," Shadow Stalker affirmed.

"...You're lying."

"Whatever," the Ward said, finally giving up her defense and heading to her useless checkup.

Armsmaster turned and headed back to his souped-up super-bike. That was when Armsmaster noticed me.

"Ah, you must be White Mage," he greeted from atop his vehicle. "It's nice to finally meet you."

 _Armsmaster is talking to me! What do I say to him? Oh man, he looks so cool. His armor is so shiny and pretty, just like his motorbike. Would he shake my hand if I asked him to?_

And before I could decide on the first words I would say to one of my favorite heroes, I felt it. Another sneeze was building up, threatening to break out into the world.

My thoughts immediately changed direction: _Oh god! No, stop, you miserably excuse for an involuntary reaction. Stay inside!_

The famed hero noticed neither my internal fangirling nor my new and growing dilemma.

"I'd stay and talk, but I'm needed back at the Rig. Maybe we'll meet again later." He loosened his brakes, turned on his motorbike and revved the engines.

This was when I finally lost the battle with my impending sneeze. It broke loose, escaping my clutches and exploding out into the world. I tried with all my might to stop it short, to lessen it somehow by clenching my mouth and constricting my throat.

" ** _HAA-STGHH!_** ** _"_**

And that was when I knew the universe was a cruel jerk. A cruel jerk with a terrible sense of humor.

I knew this because the combination of my momentary loss of bodily control mixed with the noise I'd made in the worst possible way. It activated my power, unleashing **_Haste_** onto the closest available targets. Motes of power swirled outwards and infusing themselves into the back of Armsmaster's armor and motorbike, conveniently outside of his notice.

"Bless you," he said, before revving his engines one more time and hitting the gas.

"AAHHHHHH!" he shouted as the motorcycle rushed with speed that couldn't be controlled, before hitting a nearby car, resulting in Armsmaster being flung off violently into the air. His landing sounded painful.

All I could do was gape in horror.  
I fucking hate allergies...


	10. Cure 1

Several days passed with no sign of Amy. Several days of worry and fear for my friend.

I spent a lot of that time trying to distract myself from the dread churning within me, wandering around the city and thinking of how I could make good on my promise to bring hope back to Brockton Bay. All while trying to keep my own sense of hope alive.

And each day I came back to the hospital for my rounds, trusting that Amy would eventually return to hers as well.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

"Amy, you're ok!" I exclaimed when I next spotted the tell-tale red and white costume of Panacea walking through the back entrance of the hospital. My body moved on its own, rushing straight towards her, acting on the potent swell of relief that filled me upon seeing her returned, safe and sound. Amy had barely turned around by the time I got to her and wrapped my arms around her in a hug.

Had I had time to actually think about what I was doing, I may have been apprehensive about hugging her. Hugs weren't something I had much practice with the last few years. I wasn't sure that I would be able to give one successfully, anymore, and doubt would have frozen me into inaction. But thoughts weren't allowed right now, not in the face of the elation I was feeling.

My body, at least, seemed to remember what to do on an instinctual level, as I pulled her close to me. It was comforting to hold onto her, the physicality of her presence confirming that she really was back and quelling the last remnants of anxiety that had been eating at me the last few days.

Amy's response wasn't quite what I'd been hoping for...

"Ow! Arm, arm, arm! Get off!" She wriggled and squirmed, desperately struggling to get out of my grip with her right arm and shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" I yelped and lept away from her. Amy backed off, craddling her left forearm defensively. An arm that was nestled in red sling and wrapped tightly in a white splint. It looked like a fracture to me.

Ok, so she hadn't returned unscathed, but she was alive and in one piece and that was all that mattered.

"I'm really, really sorry," I reiterated.

"It's fine," she replied, nursing her injured arm all the while. She sure didn't seem all that fine.

Great, she gets back from an Endbringer battle and what's the first thing I do? I hurt her. Way to go, me.

"Let me make it up to you. _**Bask in the light of rejuve**_ -mmmph!"

"Wait!" she cried out, panicking even as sparkling lights slowly blinked into existence around us. She reacted before I could finish, slamming her right hand over my mouth to halt my chanting. The lights extinguished themselves.

"I don't want you to heal this!"

"Mmm?" I asked from behind her hand. I hoped that I wouldn't need to clarify my meaning, garbled and mumbled though it was. I mean, really, who refused a free healing? Did she want to be in pain for weeks? Oh god, was Amy secretly a masochist!?

"Right, that probably seems weird," she added under her breath, before realizing that her hand was still clamped firmly over my mouth and retracted it, looking embarassed.

"Yeah, it is," I confirmed, staring at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"Well, you see, it, uh..." she waffled, brow furrowing in thought. Her eyes drifted around, as if searching for something to say. She couldn't have made it more obvious that she was digging around for an excuse.

"My injury is pretty minor," was what she finally settled on, looking determined. "It would be a waste of your powers."

Frankly, I was impressed that she could say that with a straight face. I sure couldn't listen to it with one, letting slip the slightest of chagrined blush, the vicarious embarrasment too much to handle. I wondered briefly if Amy knew how bad she was at lying. Probably not, given how often she tried to keep her real thoughts and feelings from others. How did she manage to get away with hiding these things from other people?

"...really?"

"Y-yeah."

"Ok, if you say so." Both of us knew that I didn't believe her, but if she wanted to keep her real reason secret I wasn't going to pry.

…

"I'm glad you're alright, for what it's worth," I added. Ah, a smile! That's what I was hoping to see.

I smiled back at her. "So, what's on your schedule today?"

"Just the usual rounds. I'll probably stop by a few of the smaller clinics as well, since it's been awhile. Vicky wants to spend time with me after I'm done for the day. What about you? Maybe you can join me for today?"

There was a subtle hopefulness laced into her last question, one that Amy couldn't quite hide. She wanted to spend time with me, as real friends, hanging out and enjoying each others company. And I wanted to, achingly so.

But, I actually did have plans for today. Important plans, at least to me. I'd intended to start making good on my decision to restore hope to the city, and today was going to be my first step along that path.

Maybe I could do both today.

"Sure, I'll come with. It'll be more fun that way. We can talk and hang out while we work."

Amy nodded, her smile growing. She turned and made her way towards her rounds. I fell in place by her side, ready to face the trials and tribulations of the day with her.

"Also, I wanted to ask for your help with something, afterwards. Victoria can come, too. It'd probably be easier with her tagging along."

"What did you need help with?"

"Moving some stuff to a new place. Maybe cleaning it up a bit."

"...uhm, sure, why not?"

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

Stage one for healing the city: creating a place to center my efforts.

That's why we were out here, wandering through the more desolate neighborhoods of Brockton Bay. One of many in the old business sections surrounding the docks, long since abandoned by those without the strength to weather the economic storm that had hit the city years ago.

I lead the way onwards, trying to recall the path I'd taken the last few nights. It was surpringly difficult to recognize landmarks and streets in the light of day when you'd only ever seen them in darkness.

The task was made all the more difficult by the numerous boxes weighing us down, stacked atop each other to the point that our eyes barely peaked over them. Well, to be more precise, me and Victoria were carrying boxes. Amy was following along, listening to me and Victoria talk.

"Ok," Glory Girl began, "So, your plan is to make a place for yourself around here and help people out? That's it?" She seemed pretty doubtful of my plan. Not that I could blame her, it wasn't much of one, to be honest. But I had to start somewhere, and this much I knew I could do.

She floated closer to me, balancing her three boxes with skill and strength one wouldn't expect from a teenage girl. "I think you were doing just fine with that by giving sis' a hand with her hospital work."

Amy shot a mildly annoyed look at her sister's back. "She's done more than just 'gave me a hand', Vicky."

"Sure, sure, but my point still stands. Why not just keep on with what you've been doing?"

"It's not enough," I stated simply. "Healing people at the hospital is… too normal, I guess."

Glory Girl gave me a confused look. "Too normal? What, is it not good enough, or something? Fixing hurt and sick people in the blink of an eye seems pretty extraordinary to me."

"That's not what I meant." I wasn't phrasing my thoughts properly. I took a moment to collect them and tried again. "People go to hospitals in order to get healed. It's expected there, ordinary even, something that's taken for granted, even if it's done with powers. Healing people in that environment doesn't do anything to change their perception of reality, that feeling that the world itself is broken and hurt. That's what I need to challenge If I want to make a difference.

"It's hope that I'm trying to give everyone, and that requires a different statement, one that shows everyone there's somebody trying to make things better."

"If you really wanted to do more, wouldn't it be better to just hit the baddies, instead? Y'know, take down some muggers or druggies? That'll make a statement."

Amy snorted from behind us. "What's she going to do, heal them into submission? Blind them with those flashes her power makes?"

I couldn't help it, I laughed at the image that popped into my mind of Lung, in full dragon form, cowering before a solid wall of my healing lights. "All villains shall learn to fear the sparklies!"

That got laughs out of Amy and Victoria, the latter of which bobbed in the air when she giggled. It was kind of cute.

"Ok, fair point," Glory Girl said once we'd all calmed down. "But you could still join a team. You may not have any firepower yourself, but any heroes that're with you will become that much more effective, make it so we could really teach the assholes in the world a lesson."

"I could, but that's not the message I want to send. Let me ask you this: Can you say that things have really changed since you've started being a hero and fought those kind of threats? Do people really feel any better about the city? Do _you_?"

Glory Girl paused at my question, before adding one of her own. "So then, what are you going to do to make your statement?"

"What little I can."

Victoria didn't seem to have a response to that, shuffling her boxes around and carrying on in contemplative silence.

Well, for awhile at least.

"Where exactly are we heading to, anyway?"

As fate so often demands, the question was posed just as we reached our destination. I stopped in front of a particularly delapidated warehouse, dropped my boxes in front of the building, and fluorished my hands dramatically at it, proudly declaring: "We're here!"

The warehouse itself really showed its age. The grounds around us were covered in overgrown weeds, quite a few of them reaching up to our knees or higher. Several windows were broken, with graffiti and stains literring the outside walls. The inside was covered in a nigh impenetrable layer of dust, with spiders the only sentry left to give it life, their webs the only remaining decorations. Wait, that wasn't entirely correct, there were broken beer bottles scattered around, indicicating that there was some occassional activity here. Oh, look, old needles, dumped right there next to the door. No person had shown this place any love since it had been abandoned, that much was clear. (Though, I bet the spiders helped out, in their own way, to protect and upkeep the place. They at least ate stray intruders, even if those intruders were of the small and harmless variety. Well, they had better watch out, because there was a new sovereign of this domain, and her name was Taylor!)

Amy and Victoria stared at the place, eyeing it suspiciously. Their gazes wandered around, taking stock of the many imperfections laid out before them.

"This place?" Victoria asked as she dropped her own stack of boxes unceremoniously to the ground. "Are you crazy?!"

Amy was a bit more gentle. "It does seems pretty run down."

What was with their responses? Couldn't they see that this place was perfect! What better way to start healing the city than to rejuvenate a place that practically embodied everything I wanted to fix.

And there was so much potential to be had here, once I'd cleaned and fixed it up a bit...well, a lot of bits. Looking through the shattered windows revealed a spacious building with a lot of extra storage rooms littered throughout. The back seemed to lead into something like a kitchenette or cooking room, maybe it used to be an area to prepare food for the employees or to sell. There was even a second story!

Either way, this was going to be my starting point. I could tell, deep down, that this was the first step I needed to take.

"It's symbolic," I noted. "It's the first thing I'm going to fix. Then it'll become a center for future changes."

"C'mon," I said as I opened the door, unleashing a gust of dust onto myself in the process. I'd been about to welcome them in, too, and a particularly thick part of the dusty cloud chose that moment to rush into my mouth. I backed up, alternating between coughs and gagging on the disgusting filth filling my mouth.

Stll hacking, I tried to gesture them inside instead.

Stepping inside, Amy noticed the remains of the rusted lock I'd broken through the first time I came here, hanging loosely on the door handle. And below that was the hammer I'd used to smash it open, left behind amongst the weeds.

"Symbolically speaking, you do know that this is technically breaking and entering, right?"

I hadn't really thought of it like that. What did it matter that the building wasn't technically mine. Nobody was using it, it was just going to waste.

"It's for a good cause!" I defended. Besides, the space was awesomely huge! It would be a good place to relax and get away from the world when I needed to. "Y'know, mostly."

Amy just shot me a look. It felt pretty judgemental. Even so, she was the first to kick one of the heavy boxes inside, no small effort for the diminutive and injured girl. She then turned back to grace me with a supportive smile and motioned for me to come in. It was such a small action, and yet, to me, it felt powerful, like Amy had just planted a flag into the building, declaring it my territory in my stead.

"What now?" Amy asked.

I opened one of the smaller boxes, the one I had been carrying, to reveal a plethora of rags, towels and cleaning agents. Grabbing one of the rags, I offered it to Amy. "Wanna help me clean up?"

Amy looked into the dark, dirty interior, noting the sheer amount of grime and filt that had collected over many years of neglect and misuse. Her gaze returned to the rag with a mixture of contempt and resignation.

"What other choice do I have. If I say 'no' I'll just end up watching you do it by yourself."

Her uninjured hand reached out towards the rag, but Glory Girl yanked it from me before Amy could take it.

"You sit back 'sis, your arms still pretty banged up. I'll take care of it for you." Her words to Amy were gentle and the smile she gave Amy was full of protective warmth. She smiled at Amy and I could sense the care that she felt for her sister in her gaze.

"Thank you, Vicky." Amy replied, face turning red. She turned her head away abruptly, trying desperately to hide the flush afflicting her face.

…Oh! So that was why Amy didn't want me to heal her arm.

"Aww, your face is getting red. Are you that moved by my graciousness? You should now that I'm always there for you, Ames."

Victoria seemed rather oblivious to Amy's true feelings, if her teasing was anything to go by. And then Victoria's face lit up with inspiration, her mind having reached a stupidly brilliant idea.

"Hey White Mage, why don't you heal Amy's arm?

Amy stiffened at that suggestion. Her eyes darted to me, silently pleading for me to deny the request.

"I-I would, but…" Think Taylor, think! "I'm, uh, all tapped out for today. There's not enough in me to fix her up. Sorry."

Oh god, I'm just as bad a liar as Amy!

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

It took a few hours to get the place somewhat cleaned up. Well, maybe not 'clean' clean, but we did manage to get most of the dust, grime and litter out.

We even won the war with the previous tenants: the spiders. The poor things never stood a chance. Amy's pride had been the only casualty on our side, when one of the spindly adversaries, in a clear show of dominance, decided to swing down onto her head. The shrill shriek she let out may as well have been the spider's victory cheer, even as it barely managed to ride atop Amy through the flailing motions of her panic. I could practically feel the smug sense of victory coming from the spider, at least until Victoria took righteous vengeance on the brave and foolish arachnid soldier.

All in all, things had progressed quickly! Though, as the sun began to set, I could tell that Amy and Victoria were getting worn out, and maybe just a bit annoyed with cleaning up. I felt kind of bad asking for their help, or rather for asking Amy for help and having her drag Victoria along for the ride.

So, while they finished up, I took one of the boxes upstairs. Opening it up, I took stock of the materials. The box was filled with blankets, food and a couple of lanterns.

Perfect!

I took one of the blankets out and laid it on the floor, taking some time to spread it out smoothly and flatten its wrinkles. It was wonderfully soft and I rolled around on it a bit to enjoy its plush feel. That done, I set out and turned on the lanturns, it was starting to get dark after all and their dim glow made for wonderful atmosphere. Last up was the food, which I laid out as artistically as I could. It was mostly fruit and bread, but I also had some store-made sandwhiches with me, ones I bought just for my friends.

And voilà, a nice little picnic had been set up!

"Hey, White Mage," came Victoria's voice as she trudged up the stairs. "I think we're about done here-"

Her comment cut at the finish as she saw spread before her.

"Woah, is that for us?"

She seemed genuinely surprised and took several moments to truly appreciate the scene before her, eyes roving over every detail as the smile on her face grew to dazzling proportions. She just seemed so happy with what I'd arranged, as if I what I'd done was somehow remarkable.

Her reaction was more than I had expected….and kind of embarassing. It was just a picnic, after all!

"Yeah. I, uh, wanted to thank you and Amy for helping me. Especially you, Victoria. I've barely met you and you've helped me out so much. Sorry if you felt pressured into it because of Amy."

"That's not why I helped," she responded, looking over the items once more, seemingly in search of something. "Well, not the only reason. Sure, it's kinda my job to help out sis, but there's more to it than that."

Victoria took a moment to inspect the open box next to me, floating over to it and rummaging through. She picked out one of the other blankets inside, a small, pink one, and wrapped it around herself. It was getting cold, I supposed, not that I really felt the winter chill in my heavy costume.

"Amy told me about you, you know? She said that you helped her out when she needed it. I wanted to see what kind of person you were like."

She took out another blanket from the box and set it down onto the picnic. I assumed that one was for Amy. She went back to the box and dug for another blanket, talking to me all the while.

"And Amy could use a friend. I mean, yeah, she hangs out with me and my friends a lot, but she doesn't really have any of her own. I'm glad she's found one for herself."

She finally picked out a sky blue blanket, one dotted with little white stars, and plopped it gently over me. The edge of the blanket went right over my hoodie and obscured my face.

"Maybe even a good one. Besides, I kind of want to see where this whole plan of yours goes. It just might end up doing some good."

I gripped onto the blanket covering me, suddenly very glad for its presence. I needed it to hide the surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me and burst free.

She was glad to have me here, to have me as a friend. I'd found another person who actually seemed to care about me, somebody for whom I mattered. And maybe, just maybe, she believed in me as well, had faith that I could actually do something meaningful.

"Thank you," was all I managed to get out, choked up as I was.

Victoria smiled at me, barely visible through the fabric over my eyes, then took a seat at the picnic and grabbed a sandwhich. Before digging in, she leaned towards the stairs and shouted out: "Sis, we've got food up here! Come join us!"

I sat myself next to Glory Girl just as Amy popped up. She skidded to a stop when she saw us.

"...you set up a picnic in an abandoned, dilapidated warehouse?"

Well, when you put it like that-

"Cool," she added, interrupting my thoughts and taking her own seat next to me. She wrapped the only unclaimed blanket around herself, snuggling into its soft warmth, and grabbed an apple to bite into.

"This is really nice, thanks."

It felt good to have friends again.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

I decided to introduce myself to everyone that lived in the nearby neighborhoods. I'd even prepared some gifts to hand out to them. Nothing fancy or impressive, mostly consisting of food and basic supplies, but hopefully it would be enough to show that I was friendly.

That was the plan, anyway, but reality has a tendency to disappoint.

Everyone I encountered was surprisingly wary of me, no matter what I tried to do to appear amiable. I greeted them all with as much cheer as I could and, while they couldn't see it, I kept a smile on my face, hoping that they could somehow sense it. But even so, I couldn't penetrate the shell of anxiety that my mere presence seemed to induce.

One look at my costume and most went on edge. It almost felt like they were afraid of me.

But why? Was it because I was a cape? Most of their cape interactions around here were probably for the worse, with the cape-run gangs of the city exerting their influence wherever they could and the heroes doing little in the way of actually helping. Heck, the heroes probably didn't bother coming out unless something serious was happening, like a cape fight, or to ask for information that wasn't safe for civilians to give out.

It didn't feel like I was getting through to anybody that I just wanted to be nice and helpful. Maybe I should have made a bigger name for myself outside of the hospitals, made White Mage more recognizable to the average person.

Sighing in frustration, I knocked on the door to the next house. I saw the light coming through the peephole dim as those inside checked on their visitor. There were muted noises coming from inside as the people inside talked amongst themselves. There was some shuffling before I heard the latch being undone and the door opened.

The man who answered was absolutely _huge_. He was a tower of tattooed muscles and my neck craned to meet his eyes. If that wasn't enough, his face was hard and mean, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was capable of making lesser men flee with little more than a pointed glare. A glare that was currently directed straight at me, piercing through what little confidence I tried to project.

Oh, and there was a metal baseball bat hung in his hand, which he held in a crushing grip, muscles tensed and ready for action.

The _**stoneskin**_ shield glowing faintly around me felt distinctly less comforting at that moment.

"What do ya want?" His voice was gravelly, intimidating.

My heart beat like crazy and adrenaline flowed freely through my veins. I could sense the impending confrontation that he so clearly expected. He looked ready to attack at the slightest sense of provocation, intentional or not.

Instincts kicked in and I did the only thing I could think of. I took one of the clear plastic bags of fruit and bread I had on me and held it out like an offering.

"My name is White Mage, please accept this!"

He didn't move, though his brows did furrow in confusion. Or anger. It was impossible to tell with a face like that. I kept the bag of food up, willing him to take it. He never did, and soon my arms were getting tired of keeping it aloft.

In the end, I slowly set my gift down on his doorstep, careful to keep a healthy, non-threatening, amount of distance between us.

"I'm just here to say 'hello'," I continued, trying to sound much calmer than I felt, "and to let you know that I'm here to help!"

There was an awkward pause, the man thinking hard on the peculiar sight before him.

"...you're not with the Empire, are you?" It wasn't a question. It felt more like a conclusion he was voicing into the air; a revelation that he was just now coming to.

"No, I'm not!"

The Empire? _Oh god_ , was that why everyone was so cautious of me? They thought I was part of the Empire! Of course they did, walking around the outskirts of their territory as I was, and in a flowing white and red costume no less.

Calm down, Taylor, this is just a misunderstanding. A horrible, terribly misunderstanding.

"I see," the man said. The tension that had kept his muscles taught eased, as did his grip on the baseball bat. His face relaxed as well, just a tad, moving from absolutely terrifying to merely unnerving. Maybe that was just how he naturally looked.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Introducing myself? You see, I'm a healer and I've just set myself up in the area. I wanted to let everyone know that they could find me at Warehouse C, a few streets over, if they needed medical help or, well, anything else."

"Warehouse C?" He repeated, not entirely sure of what to make of what was happening. "One of the abandoned ones?"

"Yup!" I answered, putting what little enthusiam I could into it. If I wanted people to put their trust in me as a force of good I needed to act the part, after all.

He looked down at the food I tried to give him before, examining it intently, before glancing back at me with similar scrutiny. Finally, he nodded at me, and discaded his metal bat, placing it against the inside wall of his house.

"I"ll keep that in mind," he said as he bent down to accept my present. "Thanks."

With that, he shut the door on me. It was done with suprising gentleness.

"Haaahhh." I let my breath out in a deep sigh, feeling suddenly weak. My legs felt like they were about to give. ' _Nope, don't collapse. Heroes don't collapse!_ '

A hero I may technically have been, but I felt distinctly powerless at that moment. That had been the most harrowing visit yet! What would I have done if he'd actually attacked me? I don't think _**stoneskin**_ could take more than a few hits, probably fewer when those hits came from somebody so obviously strong.

That could have ended very badly for me. It very nearly did, too.

But it _didn't_. And, in the end, he did come around.

I succeeded, if just barely, and that's what mattered in the end.

I gave myself a few moments to collect myself, then gathered the last remaining bag I had and continued onward.

(~*~*~*~*~*~)

It was on my way to the next house that I spotted one of the homeless in the area, sitting on a curb underneath a street light. Behind him was a small field of grass that he had made his own, if the piles of discarded wrappers, cans and a few shopping carts filled with junk were any indication.

The man looked dangerously thin and wirey, his face dirty and hairy. His clothes were tattered and weathered, though he was at least covered in several layers of them, layers that couldn't quite smother the unpleasant smell of accumulated dirt and body odor.

He saw my approach and scooted a bit out of the way, enough to leave the circle of light that the streetlamp provided. He blended into the darkness so well it was scary. His clothes and skin were dark enough to make the transition seemless, as if he had changed from a human into a living shadow, with only the whites of his eyes remaining to dimly reflect the light of the world around him. Even his demeanor changed. He seemed to be hiding from the reality that the light revealed.

And it was when he scooted away that I noticed something else. He was missing a leg, the left leg of his pants were tied up around an obvious stump.

I stopped in front of him and held out one of the blankets.

"Hi, would you like a blanket?"

"You sure?" He asked, voice stronger than I had imagined. He seemed surprised by the offer.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I smiled as gently as I could and proffered the blanket out further out. "Here, itake it."

He scooted back into the light, wearing a small smile himself, and took the blanket from me. He felt the fabric and rubbed it against his face.

"It's soft," he noted, then laid it down on himself.

I grabbed the last bag of food I had with me and held it out. "Would you like some food as well?"

He eyed the bad with obvious want, stomach gurgling in anticipation of the meal before him. But even so he didn't take the bag.

"No, thank you," he answered definitively. "You've done more than enough for me. I'll be fine with just the blanket." To emphasize the point, he patted the donated sheet of fabric resting on his lap, trying to show his appreciation. The action felt practiced and just a bit exaggerated.

Was he worried about asking for too much, or being seen as a bother? Was that why he didn't want anything else from me, even something as simple as food? That made things difficult for me. Especially since I had one more offer to make, the most important one.

I hoped he would accept it.

"Well, how about I heal your missing leg?"

The man's eyes bulged a bit, his hand coming down to grasp what remained of said appendage. "What? How?"

I smirked from behind my scarf. "I thought the costume would have been a dead giveaway. I'm a parahuman. A healer. I think I can fix it for you. Untie the knot and I'll give it a shot."

He undid the knot and rolled his pants up, revealing the scarred stump. The end looked disfigured, the skin mottled and uneven in some places and burned in others.

I couldn't help the wince that came when I saw how bad it was.

"Pretty nasty, I know. I lost it to an accident a long time ago, on the job. I guess that's what I get for doing what I loved and working with dangerous machinery. Looking back, I wish I'd shot for a cushy desk job instead, but, well, here I am."

"Does it hurt?" It looked awful.

"Every damn day. Do you really think you can heal it?"

"I've been able to heal everything else I've encountered so far. _**Bask in the light of rejuvenation. Cure!**_ "

Lights erupted from me, casting away the darkness around us. With a thought, I sent them towards the man, flickering along the way. Startled, he brought his arms up to shield himself from the swarm around him. Not that it did anything to stop their progress, as each twinkling sparkle fluttered their way into his body.

The skin of his stump started to move, writhing as the uneven chunks of scar tissue flattened out and dissipated. The burns and discolorations lessened more and more every second, until they took on the texture and color of normal skin, looking smooth to the touch.

And yet, despite all this, it remained a stump. No new flesh grew forth to form a new leg.

Maybe it was the wrong approach.

" _ **Purify that which subdues the mind and weakens the body. Esuna!**_ "

More motes of light came forth, but this time the man didn't recoil. He accepted them eagerly, watching intently.

But still, there was no change.

"Why isn't this working?" I asked myself.

"Look, I appreci-"

" ** _Bask in the light of rejuvenation. Cure!_** "

I urged as much of my power as I could outward, until I could feel my energy waning. More and more sparkling motes answered the call. Their numbers threatened to surround us completely, their brilliance nearly blinding.

I fell to my knees, weakened by the exertion. I'd used up all that I had in this attempt to heal him. All that remained was the painful emptiness of overuse.

I willed the sparkles onwards, each of the lights finding their way into the man, so many that he practically glowed with them. But still, there was no change. I could not return his leg to him.

"It's not working," I breathed out, voice soft and dismayed. "I'm sorry."

Why wasn't it healing? I'd healed deep gouges and fingers that had been cut off, before. What was the difference? Was it because the missing flesh had been healed over for so long? Did my power not recognize it as a wound anymore? I scrambled to find an answer, spending long, agonized moments trying to think of some way to fix him with my abilities. But nothing came forth. I simply didn't have the power to do it.

All the while, the man just looked at me with pity.

Imagine that, I failed to heal his missing leg, and I was the one receiving those sympathetic eyes, like I was the one suffering here. I turned away, unable to face him when he looked at me like that. It was too similar to the stares of the kids at school, the ones who saw my struggles but couldn't help. I could feel the sting of tears forming my eyes.

"Thank you," he said, and my eyes shot back up to his. There was still pity in his expression, but now there was something else glimmering alongside it: Kindness.

"But, I couldn't help you."

"What are you talking about? You healed the burns and the scars. The pain is gone now, pain that I've felt for years.

"And besides that, I could see that you gave everything you had into helping me. That's more than anyone else has ever given me.

"So, again, thank you."

My heart swelled at his words. I _had_ done some good for him, after all.

"You're welcome," I replied. It came out more as a thank you.

"Is there something I can do to repay you?" He asked, earnest and serious about his offer.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm here to help people. I don't need anything back."

"Trust me, kid, that's a bad idea." There wasn't any cruelty or judgement in his statement, just an undertone of coldness that came from painful memories and hard lessons learned. "Doing everything for free is just going to end up with you taken advantage of, used like cheap bubble gum: taken in and spit back out once your usefulness has been chewed out. You have an amazing ability, you shouldn't be giving it out for free.

"Besides, you won't get anywhere without help, especially out here in the streets. You need to take it where you can get it, even if it means putting a price on the good you're trying to do."

He wanted me to add a price to my healing? Sure, I've accepted money for my healings before, but those were offered to me as thanks for my service, not demanded as payment. Besides, demanding a fee for my efforts went against everything I had set out to do here. How could I spark hope and kindle good will by doing so?

My moment of contemplation was ruined when his stomach gurgled again. Loudly. He should have taken me up on my offer for food earlier, he had obvious need of it.

It was so hard to get people to help themselves, sometimes.

Wait! Maybe adding a price for using my abilities could be used to benefit the city.

"Alright then," I said, a mischivous grin hiding beneath my costume. "Here's my price: You have to share this food with me."

Hey smirked back at me. "Clever. What's your name, anyway, kid?"

"Call me White Mage," I answered as I passed him some bread and sat down beside him. "What's yours?"

"Jamahl. It's nice to meet you, White Mage"

(~*~End~*~)

A/N: Thanks to KillaAxeMan and Wanderer of the Dark for helping me with the beta draft! You both really helped me out.


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